r-NRLF 


B    3    13M    flS3 


URAL  HISTORI 


AM) 


BIOLOGY 
LIBRARY 


"V 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


CONTRIBUTIONS 


^TATUEAL    HISTOEY 


AKD 


PAPERS    ON    OTHER    SUBJECTS. 


BY    JAMES  .SIMSON. 


Beware 

Of  entrance  to  a  quarrel ;  but,  being  in, 
Bear  it,  that  the  opposer  may  beware  of  thee. 

This  above  all, — to  thine  ownself  be  true." 

SHAKSPEARE. 


NEW    YQ.RK: 

JAMES   MILLER,   PUBLISHER, 
779  BROADWAY. 

1878. 
All  rights  reserved. 


> 


BIOLOGY 
LIBRARY 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874,  by 

JAMES  SIMSON, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 

Re-ente'ed,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1878,  by 

JAMES  SIMSON, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington, 


EDWARD  O.  JENKINS1  PRINT, 
20  North   William  Street,  Xew  York. 


PUBLISHERS     NOTE. 


THIS  work  was  stereotyped  and  printed  in  this  city  in  1875, 
but  allowed  to  remain  in  sheets  till  now,  for  various  reasons, 
among  which  was  the  dullness  in  the  Book  Trade  and  in  busi- 
ness generally.  An  edition,  however,  was  published  in  Great 
Britain  from  duplicates  of  the  plates.  All  of  the  subjects  treated 
are  of  a  permanent  nature  and  interest,  even  including  John 
Stuart  Mill  as  a  representative  man.  The  book  has  gained 
greatly  by  the  delay,  inasmuch  as  it  now  contains  an  Appen- 
dix of  Comments  on  British  Criticisms,  and  in  further  eluci- 
dation of  the  questions  discussed. 

The  work  was  set  up  in  its  present  form  for  reasons  satis- 
factory to  the  author.  The  only  part  of  it  that  has  appeared 
anywhere  before  is  about  twenty-six  pages,  published  in  London, 
in  Land  and  Water  and  Notes  and  Queries,  as  explained  at  the 
bottom  of  each  article ;  and  an  Appeal  to  the  Scottish  Clergy 
(similarly  marked),  which  was  distributed  privately  in  1871. 

The  Publisher  cannot  help  remarking  that,  in  his  opinion, 
justice  has  not  apparently  been  done  to  this  book  in  Great 
Britain;  as  if  the  evidence  gathered  in  America  were  not  suffi- 
cient to  satisfy  the  Press  there,  or,  it  may  be,  because  it  in- 
terferes with,  or  sets  aside,  its  ideas  regarding  the  matters  and 
persons  under  investigation. 

NEW  YORK,  August  15,  1878. 

•""7  «f  1>  H'**'  f-y     „-- 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  following  Contributions  to  Land  and  Water  are,  I  think, 
too  interesting  and  valuable  to  the  lovers  of  natural  history  tc 
be  allowed  to  remain  in  the  columns  of  a  newspaper.*  There 
are  too  few  of  them  to  make  a  volume,  and  so  are  published  in 
this  form.f  I  would  have  added  to  them  but  for  the  difficulty 
in  finding  subjects,  or  leisure  to  develop  them,  that  have  not 
been  treated  before,  or  treated  in  such  a  way  as  to  require  to  be 
corrected,  and  placed  on  another  and  more  permanent  founda- 
tion than  heretofore.  Intelligent  and  ingenious  people  generally 
prefer  to  see  an  idea  started  and  elucidated,  with  all  the  circum- 
stances attending  it — as  some  enjoy  the  breaking  away  of  a  fox, 
and  being  well  up  with  the  hounds,  and  in  at  the  death — rather 
than  have  the  dry  result  of  an  inquiry  stated  to  them  ;  for  then 
they  become,  as  it  were,  investigators  along  with  him  who 
makes  it,  while  the  particulars  give  them  detailed  and  positive 
evidence  of  the  conclusions  arrived  at.  For  my  part,  I  consider 
the  testimony  to  prove  the  leading  fact  set  forth  in  these  Contri- 
butions so  complete,  that  nothing  could  be  added  to  it ;  although 
it  would  be  very  interesting  to  have  a  careful  examination  of  the 
anatomy  of  the  Snake,  to  ascertain  the  physical  peculiarities  con- 
nected with  the  phenomenon  described. 

What  I  have  said  on  the  subject  of  snakes  swallowing  their 
young  applies  to  everything  connected  with  natural  history, 
viz  :  that  it  "  should  be  settled  by  evidence,  as  a  fact  is  proved 
in  a  court  of  justice ;  difficulties,  suppositions  or  theories  not 
being  allowed  to  form  part  of  the  testimony  "  (p.  28).  In  other 
words,  the  writer  should  be  placed  in  the  witness-box,  and 
severely  cross-questioned  as  to  his  facts,  systems  and  theories; 
or  place  himself  there,  and  be  his  own  examiner.  In  these  days, 
on  the  subject  of  natural  history  among  others,  we  stand  greatly 

*  Such  of  these  Contributions  as  were  printed  in  Land  and  Water  have  a  note  giving  the  date  of  pub- 
lication ;  the  others,  with  only  one  date  attached,  were  returned  by  request, 
t  It  was  originally  intended  to  print  these  in  the  form  of  a  pamphlet. 


JV  INTRODUCTION. 

in  need  of  Bacon's*  philosophy,  which  might  be  called  common 
sense  systematized  and  refined,  having  for  its  object  the  finding 
of  facts,  and  tracing  them  to  their  roots,  or  from  their  roots 
through  their  various  ramifications ;  which  constitute  the  phil- 
osophy of  any  question.  I  am  well  aware  of  the  difficulties  at- 
tending the  reception  of  new  facts  and  ideas,  which  are  apt  to 
bewilder  and  bore  people  whose  judgments  have  never  been 
really  cultivated.  The  general  and  sometimes  almost  involuntary 
aversion  to  receive  them  is  somewhat  like  the  resistance  made 
to  a  suit  at  law  to  dispossess  people  of  their  properties,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  timidity  of  many  to  commit  themselves  to  what 
might  be,  or  what  might  be  held  by  the  public  to  be,  "  vulgar 
errors;"  but  that  is  presumed,  by  the  "force  of  truth,"  sooner 
or  later  to  disappear. 

It  is  wonderful  how  much  the  Serpent  is  mixed  up  with  the 
Old  and  New  Testament  histories,  and  how  little  is  known  about 
it ;  and  it  would  be  remarkable  if  no  meaning  could  be  attached 
to  the  Scriptural  allusions  to  it,  or  that  no  interest  should  be  felt 
in  regard  to  it.  However  odious  the  reptile  is  held  to  be,  it 
wonderfully  rivets  the  attention  of  people  meeting  it,  and  it  is 
either  timidly  avoided  or  savagely  killed.  Many  of  them  are 
not  only  harmless,  but  of  great  Use  to  the  farmer  in  clearing  his 
fields  of  mice  and  other  vermin  ;  but  some  of  the  venomous 
kinds  are  so  dangerous,  that  a  person  bitten  by  them  might  as 
well,  in  some  instances,  lay  himself  down  and  die,  like  a  poisoned 
rat  in  its  hole.  It  is  one  of  the  mysteries  of  nature  why  some 
snakes  should  be  poisonous  and  others  harmless,  when  the  for- 
mer could  apparently  serve  the  end  for  which  it  was  created 
without  its  venomous  peculiarity.  The  leading  traits  in  the 
natural  history  of  the  Snake  are  incidentally  illustrated  in  the 
present  Contributions. 

The  Papers  on  Other  Subjects  were  added  after  the  above  was 
written. 

NEW  YORK,  ist  September,  1874. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 
VIPERS  AND  SNAKES  GENERALLY, 7 

WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  THE  VIPER, 10 

WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  SNAKES, 17 

SNAKES  SWALLOWING  THEIR  YOUNG, 23 

SNAKES  SWALLOWING  THEIR  YOUNG, 25 

SNAKES  CHARMING  BIRDS,      .  30 

MR.  FRANK  BUCKLAND  ON  ENGLISH  SNAKES,      ....    31 
MR.  GOSSE  ON  THE  JAMAICA  BOA  SWALLOWING  HER  YOUNG,  .    33 

AMERICAN  SNAKES,  36 

AMERICAN  SCIENCE  CONVENTION  ON  SNAKES,  ...    36 

CHARLES  WATERTON  AS  A  NATURALIST,        ....          39 

ROMANISM, 49 

JOHN  STUART  MILL :  A  STUDY. 

HIS  RELIGION, 69 

HIS  EDUCATION, 82 

«  "        A  CRISIS  IN  HIS  HISTORY,         ...    90 

"  "        HIS  WIFE,  97 

"  "        MILL  AND  SON, 105 

SIMSON'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  GIPSIES, in 

MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES, 112 

THE  SCOTTISH  CHURCHES  AND  THE  SOCIAL  EMANCIPATION 

OF  THE  GIPSIES 150 

WAS  JOHN  BUNYAN  A  GIPSY  ?* 157 

THE   DUKE   OF   ARGYLL   ON   THE   PRESERVATION   OF   THE 

JEWS 161 

INDEX 171 

APPENDIX. 

I.  JOHN  BUNYAN  AND  THE  GIPSIES,  .        .        .        .        .183 

II.  MR.  FRANK  BUCKLAND  AND  WHITE  OF  SELBORNE,    .      187 

III.  MR.  FRANK  BUCKLAND  ON  THE  VIPER,        .        .        .        .192 

IV.  THE  ENDOWMENT  OF  RESEARCH 199 


VIPERS  AND  SNAKES  GENERALLY* 


FOR  some  time  back  I  have  no- 
ticed communications  in  Land 
and  Water  on  the  question,  "  Do 
vipers  swallow  their  young?"  but  I 
have  not  seen  the  subject  investi- 
gated in  this  way  :  Has  any  one,  in 
dissecting  a  female  viper,  found  eggs 
within  her  ?  and  has  any  one  found 
young  ones  inside  of  another  ?  If 
both  have  been  found,  then,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  the  reptile  must 
have  swallowed  her  progeny. 

I  will  establish  the  principle  by 
what  I  have  observed  on  Long  Is- 
land, a  short  distance  from  New 
York.  When  strolling  with  a  friend, 
he  very  suddenly  seized  a  stone  and 
dashed  it  with  all  his  might  upon 
the  top  of  a  low  dry  stone  wall,  and 
killed  a  pretty  large  snake  of  the 
ordinary  brown  striped  species,  ly- 
ing on  it,  basking  in  the  sun.  As  it 
appeared  more  than  ordinarily  full 
about  the  body,  I  began  to  dissect 
it  in  a  rough  way,  by  tearing  it 
apart  with  two  sticks  (for  I  did  not 
like  to  touch  it),  to  see  what  it  con- 
tained, thinking  it  might  be  an  ani- 
mal it  had  swallowed,  as  a  few  days 
before  I  had  killed  another  that  had 
a  frog  partly  down  its  gullet,  feet 
foremost,  bui  making  no  noise, 
when  its  intended  prey  hopped 
away  as  if  it  had  not  been  injured. 
Having  always  understood  that 
snakes  were  animals  that  "laid 
eggs,"  I  was  greatly  surprised  at 
finding  about  twenty  snakelets  of 
considerable  size,  and  rather  lively ; 
but  my  friend  asserted  on  the  spot 
that  snakes  swallowed  their  young. 
This  naturally  led  me  to  make  in- 
quiries, and  I  found  a  trustworthy 
neighbour  who  said  positively  that 
he  had  seen  it  done.  Another, 
equally  trustworthy,  informed  me 
that  he  found  a  bunch  of  snake's 
eggs  when  repairing  a  fence,  and 
placed  them  as  a  curiosity  on  his 


mantelpiece,  and  one  morning,  very 
soon  thereafter,  he  was  surprised  at 
finding  a  number  of  young  snakes 
wriggling  about  on  it,  the  heat  of 
the  fire  having  brought  the  eggs  to 
the  hatching  point.  Now  it  is  ex- 
tremely likely  that  the  snake  that 
laid  these  eggs  was  of  the  same 
species  as  the  one  that  was  killed, 
for  both  were  in  the  same  neighbour- 
hood, where  they  were  very  numer- 
ous ;  and  it  is  a  peculiarity  of 
snakes  in  America  that  you  seldom 
or  never  find  two  kinds  occupying 
the  same  ground — at  least,  during 
two  years,  I  never  came  across  any 
other  kind  than  that  of  the  one 
killed,  and  I  saw  many  of  them.  I 
at  once  concluded  that  the  snake 
that  laid  the  eggs,  and  the  one  con- 
taining the  young  ones,  were  of  the 
same  species ;  and  as  a  natural  con- 
sequence, that  the  latter  had  swal- 
lowed her  young — quite  indepen- 
dent of  the  general  belief,  and  the 
positive  ocular  testimony  of  one 
person  as  to  the  fact.f 

Now  to  confirm  the  question  by 
analogy,  and  on  my  own  testimony. 
I  have  said  that  different  kinds — at 
least  certain  kinds — of  snakes  are 
not  apt  to  be  found  on  the  same 
ground.  There  is  a  deadly  enmity 
between  black -snakes  and  some 
others.  At  a  place  in  New  Jersey, 
where  I  frequently  visited,  and  kept 
a  lookout  for  snakes,  I  never  met 
with  any  on  the  same  ground  but 
black  ones.  On  one  occasion  I 
killed  one,  very  full  about  the  body, 
and  took  it  to  the  house  I  was  visit- 
ing for  careful  dissection,  expect- 
ing to  find  it  with  young,  when  I 
would  satisfy  myself  whether  the 


*  Dated  December  7th,  1872  ;   printed 

2ISt. 

f  As  will  be  seen,  they  were  of  the 
identical  species. 

(7) 


8 


VIPERS  AND  SNAKES  GENERALL  Y. 


young  had  been  swallowed  or  were 
in  a  state  previous  to  birth.  To 
my  surprise  I  extracted  fifteen,  six- 
teen, or  seventeen  eggs  (I  forget 
which),  all  of  one  size,  perhaps  a 
little  thicker  at  one  end  than  the 
other,  and  of  a  dirty  white  colour, 
and  soft,  indiarubbery  touch,  con- 
nected together  by  a  glutinous  sub- 
stance, and  lying  like  a  necklace 
along,  as  it  were,  the  backbone  of 
the  animal.  On  being  torn  asunder 
the  eggs  contained  a  thick,  milky- 
like  matter.  The  glutinous  sub- 
stance would  make  the  eggs  stick 
together  like  a  bunch,  in  the  manner 
of  those  placed  on  the  mantelpiece. 
Being  all  of  one  size  and  maturity, 
the  snake  would  evidently  lay  them 
all  at  once,  which  she  does  some- 
what like  the  turtle,  to  be  hatched 
by  heat,  altogether  disconnected 
from  herself.  Indeed  the  snake  is 
such  a  cold-blooded  animal — cold 
to  touch  in  the  hottest  of  weather — 
that  it  could  not  apparently  hatch 
its  eggs.*  I  came  at  once  to  the  con- 
clusion that,  if  brown  and  black 
snakes  brought  forth  their  young 
in  the  same  way,  then  surely  the 
brown  snake  had  swallowed  hers. 
To  confirm  this  analogous  proof,  a 
friend,  in  whom  every  confidence 
can  be  placed,  positively  affirmed 
that  a  black -snake — of  the  same 
species  as  the  one  from  which  I 
took  the  eggs — was  cut  in  two  in 
his  presence,  when  about  twenty 
young  ones  were  taken  out  of  it, 
of  about  five  inches  long,  and  so 
active  that  they  had  to  be  killed  to 
prevent  their  escape.  In  short,  the 
mother  had  swallowed  them. 

I  then  consulted  an  old  New  Jer- 
sey justice,  a  very  reliable  man, 
who  ploughed  up  many  a  nest  of 


*  This  is  in  allusion  to  the  oviparous 
snakes,  the  eggs  of  which  are  hatched  in 
the  ground.  The  so-called  viviparous 
bring  the  eggs  far  forward  to  maturity 
inside  of  them,  leaving  it  an  open  ques- 
tion whether  the  eggs  are  hatched  inside 
or  outside  of  the  reptile,  or  in  the  act  of 
parturition. 


snake's  eggs,  generally  near  the 
stumps  of  trees,  and  exposed  to  the 
sun.  He  says  that  the  covering  re- 
sembled the  white  of  a  hen's  egg 
very  hard  boiled — a  fair  description 
of  those  taken  out  of  the  animal. 
He  says  that  he  has  taken  the 
young  out  of  various  kinds  of 
snakes,  particularly  black  ones,  and 
that  the  creatures  always  conducted 
themselves  as  if  they  had  been  on 
the  earth  before.  He  knew  a  num- 
ber of  people,  who  not  only  saw 
young  snakes  run  into  the  mother's 
mouth,  but  took  them  out  of  her 
after  killing  her.  As  to  the  swal- 
lowing, he  does  not  understand  how 
any  one  could  doubt  it. 

I  repeat  the  question  I  started 
with  —  Has  anyone  in  England 
found  eggs  in  a  viper?  and  has 
anyone  found  young  ones  in  the 
same  species?  If  both  have  been 
found,  then  the  latter  were  swal- 
lowed ;  for  it  would  be  simply  ab- 
surd to  say  that  the  same  animal 
could  bring  forth  its  young  in  both 
ways.  As  American  snakes  swal- 
low their  young,  the  same  should 
easily  be  believed  of  the  English 
viper,  even  if  no  one  had  seen  it 
done.  It  has  surprised  me  that,  at 
this  time  of  day,  such  a  question 
should  be  an  open  one.  What  is 
the  meaning  of  science,  if  it  cannot 
be  settled  whether  or  not  vipers 
swallow  their  young  without  it  be- 
ing necessary  for  people  to  see  it 
done?  I  should  think  the  anatomy  of 
the  reptile,  in  the  hands  of  a  skilful 
man,  would  show  whether  it  was  an 
egg  or  animal-bearing  creature.  Mr. 
Frank  Buckland  is,  therefore,  very 
unreasonable,  when  he  says  he  will 
not  believe  that  vipers  swallow  their 
young,  unless  he  or  some  one  else 
sees  it  done :  and  still  more  so, 
when  he  expects  the  creature  to  do 
it  to  order  in  a  state  of  captivity, 
when  it  has  no  incentive  to  do  it. 
It  is  uncertain  what  leads  snakes  to 
do  it.  Perhaps  they  do  it  for  no 
particular  reason,  when  they  take 
charge  of  the  young  after  being 


VIPERS  AND  SNAKES  GENERALL  K. 


hatched  by  means  independent  of 
themselves.  It  would  be  impossible 
for  such  a  tiny  creature  to  move 
about  on  the  rough  ground  old 
snakes  go  over.  Sometimes  it 
might  be  to  protect  them  from  the 
weather,  or  carry  them  off  in  time 
of  danger.  The  brown  snake, 
killed  in  my  presence,  could  not 
have  been  influenced  by  fear,  for 
there  had  been  none  near  her  when 
suddenly  approached  by  myself  and 
friend,  and  particularly  as  she  was 
basking,  as  I  have  said,  on  the  top 
of  a  low  stone  wall,  where  it  was 
apparently  impossible  for  the  young 
ones  to  get,  unless  taken  there  in- 
side of  the  mother.  In  a  state  of 
captivity,  the  snake  can  have  no 
apparent  incentive  to  take  her 
young  inside  of  her.  Although 
the  neck  of  a  snake  is  narrow,  it 
has  an  immense  power  of  disten- 
sion when  gradually  swallowing  its 
prey,  while  retaining  its  powers  of 
breathing.  The  female  has  doubt- 
less peculiarities  given  her  by  na- 
ture for  taking  her  young  down  her 
throat  and  keeping  them  alive  there- 
Once  down,  her  great  distension  of 
body  furnishes  them  with  an  excel- 
lent place  of  safety.  It  has  often 
been  observed  that  snakes  of  a  size 
not  likely  to  be  able  to  take  care  of 
themselves  are  seldom  or  never 
seen. 

Some  of  your  readers  may  not  be 
aware  that  snakes  (some  species  at 
least)  shed  their  skins  late  in  the 
spring  or  early  in  the  summer, 
although  it  is  not  known  that  every 
snake  gets  a  new  coat  every  year.* 
On  the  place  on  Long  Island  men- 
tioned, where  the  brown  snakes 
were  very  numerous,  I  came  across 
a  skin  that  had  been  shed  appar- 
ently the  previous  year,  as  it  was 
considerably  weather  -  beaten  and 
dilapidated;  but  a  few  days  after- 
wards (about  the  end  of  May),  I 


*  All  snakes  doubtless  shed  their 
skins  once  a  year ;  some  people  say 
oftener,  with  some  species. 


found  a  beautiful  specimen,  soft  and 
complete,  including  even  the  cover- 
ing of  the  eyes — in  short,  a  com- 
plete snake,  barring  the  animal  in- 
side. Indeed,  I  thought  it  was  a 
snake  till  it  did  not  move,  when  I 
approached  it  considerately,  and  be- 
fore touching  it,  carefully  exam- 
ined how  it  could  have  wriggled 
itself  so  completely  out  of  its  skin. 
I  found  that  it  had  caught  itself  a 
little  below  the  head  (or  shoulders, 
if  I  may  so  express  myself)  on  a 
knot  on  the  stem  of  a  small  but 
stout  dry  weed  of  the  previous 
year's  growth.  I  gave  it  to  the  per- 
son who  killed  the  snake  containing 
the  young  ones,  on  his  going  to  vis- 
it his  friends  in  Scotland,  to  show 
it  to  them,  and  keep  for  the  pur- 
pose (as  he  said)  of  wrapping  it 
round  any  gathering,  to  bring  it  to 
a  head.  Although  a  fine,  it  was  not 
a  large  specimen. 

I  may  add  by  way  of  P.  S.,  by  an- 
other mail,  that  I  yesterday  met  a 
very  intelligent  man,  long  a  farmer 
in  Illinois,  who,  on  being  asked 
generally,  "What  about  snakes?" 
informed  me  very  fully  in  regard  to 
them,  and  exactly  as  I  have  written. 
He  says  that  he  has  often  seen 
them,  of  various  species,  swallow 
their  young,  and  that  it  is  a  very 
interesting  sight.  So  quickly  is  it 
done,  that  it  somewhat  resembles  a 
continuous  glistening  string  passing 
into  the  mother's  mouth.  He  says 
it  takes  place  on  the  approach  of 
wet  weather  and  danger,  and,  as  he 
supposes,  when  the  snake  wishes  to 
"locomote."  We  see  in  this  an 
amazing  adaptation  of  means  to  an 
end,  perhaps  as  wonderful  a  one 
as  is  to  be  found  in  natural  history. 
For,  when  the  snake  goes  to  where 
she  deposited  her  eggs  to  begin  her 
maternal  duties  proper,  and,  in  all 
probability,  at  the  moment  of  hatch- 
ing, she  would  be  absolutely  unable 
to  take  care  of,  perhaps,  twenty 
helpless  creatures,  emerging  from 
eggs  about  an  inch  in  length,  laid 
by  a  snake  about  three  feet  long,  if 


IO 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  THE  VIPER. 


she  did  not  take  them  inside  of  her, 
for  she  has  no  other  way  of  provid- 
ing for  their  safety ;  but,  by  the 
mutual  instinct  of  "  all  aboard," 
she  can  at  once  proceed  on  her 
travels  with  her  family ;  for  a  snake 
is  an  animal  that  lives  altogether  in 
the  open,  on  sometimes  very  rough 
ground,  and  only  retires  to  hidden 
places  on  the  approach  of  cold 
weather  to  hybernate.* 

In  cutting  open  the  black-snake 
mentioned,  which  was  fully  three 
feet  long,  I  found  that  the  string  of 
eggs,  say  fifteen  in  number,  would 
measure  about  fifteen  inches  in  all, 
and  were  in  a  chamber  of  much 
greater  height  and  width  than  was 
necessary  to  hold  them — something 
apparently  distinct  from  the  stom- 
ach proper,  and  doubtless  the  re- 
ceptacle for  the  young  after  being 
hatched  outside,  and  which  could 
be  greatly  expanded,  according  to 
the  nature  of  snakes.  Since  we 
know  that  life  is  originated  and 
maintained  in  an  egg,  and  in  a 
womb  containing  sometimes  a  doz- 
en of  young,  it  can  be  easily  im- 
agined that  the  young  of  a  snake 
can  have  air  supplied  to  them,  tem- 


porarily at  least,  when  confined  in 
the  way  described,  doubtless  by  a 
special  provision  of  nature  to  that 
end.  Perhaps  they  are  even  nour-^ 
ished  in  the  same  manner,  for  it 
cannot  be  imagined  that  a  tiny 
creature  can  be  fed  in  the  gross 
way  of  the  old  one,  which  has  no 
means  for  tearing  and  dividing  its 
prey  among  its  progeny.  And  this 
gives  rise  to  the  questions,  how  and 
on  what  new  -  born  and  young 
snakes  are  nourished,  when  not  in 
a  state  of  captivity  ? 

It  would  be  singular,  indeed,  if 
this  peculiarity  of  snakes  is  not  de- 
scribed in  treatises  on  the  natural 
history  of  the  animal.  I  did  not 
see  it  noticed  in  the  long  article  in 
the  Encycl&pczdia  Britannica,  on  a 
hasty  glance  I  gave  it.  To  people 
inclined  to  doubt  the  facts  given,  I 
would  say — how  can  they  find  eggs 
that  are  hatched  outside  of  the  ani- 
mal that  laid  them,  returning  to  the 
inside  of  the  same  animal  in  the 
shape  of  complete  creatures,  that 
can  help  themselves  in  any  way, 
excepting  only  what  a  larger  growth 
would  enable  them  to  do,  unless 
they  entered  it  by  the  mouth  ? 


WHITE   OF  SELBORNE  ON  THE   VIPER.\ 


WHAT  I  have  said  in  regard  to 
snakes  having  no  other  in- 
stinct or  resource  given  them  by 
nature  for  taking  care  of  their  young 
than  receiving  them  inside  of  them, 
would  not  perhaps  be  sufficient  to 

*  This  is  in  reference  to  the  black  and 
brown  striped  or  garter  snakes  in  Amer- 
ica, and  is  not  intended  to  apply  to  all 
snakes,  whether  of  the  land  or  water 
species.  And  the  same  may  be  said  of 
some  of  the  other  peculiarities  men- 
tioned. 

f  Dated  December  i4th,  1872;  printed 
January  nth,  1873. 


satisfy  some  English  readers  that 
the  same  peculiarity  doubtless  ob- 
tains with  the  British  viper,  unless 
I  said  something  on  what  White  of 
Selborne  has  recorded  on  the  sub- 
ject. 

He  advanced  little  of  his  own 
knowledge,  and  admitted  that  he 
was  no  authority,  for  he  said : — 
"  The  reptiles,  few  as  they  are,  I  am 
not  acquainted  with  so  well  as  I 
could  wish,  with  regard  to  their 
natural  history.  There  is  a  degree 
of  dubiousness  and  obscurity  at- 
tending the  propagation  of  this  class 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  THE  VIPER. 


II 


of  animals.  .  .  .The  serpent 
kind  eat,  I  believe,  but  once  a  year, 
or  rather  but  only  just  at  one  sea- 
son of  the  year."  [!]  What  he  wrote 
really  proved  that  the  viper  did 
swallow  its  young,  for  he  said  : — 
"  Several  intelligent  folks  assure  me 
that  they  have  seen  the  viper  open 
her  mouth  and  admit  her  helpless 
young  down  her  throat  on  sudden 
surprise."  This  is  very  positive 
testimony  of  people  having  no 
apparent  motive  for  imposing  on 
him,  nor  likely  to  have  been  under 
an  illusion  themselves.  But,  in  op- 
position to  their  evidence,  he  says  : 
"  The  London  viper-catchers  insist 
on  it  that  no  such  thing  ever  hap- 
pens." That  is,  they  never  saw  it 
done,  perhaps  during  the  season  of 
viper-trapping,  which  really  was  no 
testimony  at  all. 

He  says  that  about  the  24th  of 
May,  1768,  a  neighbouring  yeoman 
killed  and  took  out  of  a  viper  "  a 
chain  of  eleven  eggs,  about  the  size 
of  those  of  a  blackbird,"  such  as  I 
took  out  of  an  American  black- 
snake  which  swallows  her  young. 
According  to  American  snakes  this 
would  give  about  two  feet  for  the 
mother,  which  is  said  to  be  seldom 
found  much  above  that  length,  and 
four-and-a-half  or  five  inches  for 
the  young  when  hatched.  Seven 
years  thereafter,  on  the  4th  of  Au- 
gust, 1775,  he  himself  took  out  of 
another  fifteen  young  ones,the  short- 
est of  which  was  fully  seven  inches 
in  length,  and  about  the  size  of 
full-grown  earth-worms.  Here,then, 
was  a  phenomenon  for  him  to  solve, 
viz. — the  same  animal  (for  argu- 
ment's sake)  containing  a  string  of 
fifteen  eggs  about  an  inch  long, 
lying  along  her  back,  after  the  na- 
ture of  snakes,  "  none  of  them  ad- 
vanced so  far  towards  a  state  of 
maturity  as  to  contain  any  rudi- 
ments of  young"  (to  the  country- 
man's naked  eye,  for  White  does 
not  say  that  he  examined  them), 
and  seventy-two  days  thereafter  ap- 
pearing inside  of  her  as  snakes  up- 


wards of  seven  inches  long,  and  so 
mature  in  their  nature  that  they, 
"with  the  true  viper  spirit  about 
them,  showed  great  alertness  as  soon 
as  disengaged  from  the  belly  of  the 
dam,  twisting  and  wriggling  about, 
setting  themselves  up,  and  gaping 
very  wide  when  touched  with  a 
stick,  and  showing  manifest  tokens 
of  menace  and  defiance,"  to  such 
an  extent  that  he  compared  their 
action  to  "  a  young  cock  that  will 
spar  at  his  adversary  before  his 
spurs  are  grown,  and  a  calf  or  lamb 
that  will  push  with  their  heads  be- 
fore their  horns  are  sprouted."  Yet, 
notwithstanding  that  several  intel- 
ligent people  assured  .him  that  they 
had  seen  a  viper  admit  her  young 
down  her  throat,  he  says  : — "  There 
was  little  room  to  suppose  that  this 
brood  had  ever  been  in  the  open 
air  before,  and  that  they  were  taken 
in  for  refuge  at  the  mouth  of  the 
dam  when  she  perceived  that  danger 
was  approaching."  And  for  what 
reason  ?  "  Because  then,  probably, 
we  should  have  found  them  some- 
where in  the  neck  and  not  in  the 
abdomen,"  That  is,  we  might  ex- 
pect to  find  fifteen  snakes  seven 
inches  and  a  fraction  long,  or  fully 
nine  feet  of  snakes,  in  the  neck  of  the 
mother,  that  would  be  three  feet  long 
at  the  very  most — in  the  neck,  that 
to  the  eye  or  the  imagination  would 
hardly  admit  a  passage  for  one  of  the 
young  ones  at  such  short  notice  as  a 
sudden  surprise  would  imply  ! 

How  did  these  eggs  change  to  such 
complete,  large,  and  active  snakes 
before  birth  ?  That  is,  how  did  a 
string  of  fifteen  eggs,  lying  along  the 
back  of  the  animal,  become  fifteen 
snakes,  upwards  of  seven  inches 
long,  so  active  and  wicked  before 
they  were  born,  and  so  filling  the 
abdomen  of  the  mother  that  she 
seemed  "  very  heavy  and  bloated  ?" 
The  very  nature  of  an  egg  is  to  be 
laid  and  hatched  by  the  animal 
laying  it,  or  by  the  artifice  of  man, 
or  by  the  elements.  Yet  White  says 
of  vipers : — "  Though  they  are  ovi- 


12 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  THE  VIPER. 


parous,  they  are  viviparous  also, 
hatching  their  young  within  their 
bellies,  and  then  bringing  them 
forth";  perhaps  drawing  his  con- 
clusion from  the  phenomenon  men- 
tioned, and  absolutely  ignoring  the 
testimony  of  people  who  had  seen 
vipers  swallow  their  young.  It 
would  be  a  curiosity  in  nature  to 
find  an  animal  that  hatched  an  un- 
laid egg  inside  of  itself ;  so  great  a 
curiosity  as  at  once  to  be  rejected 
unless  it  could  be  supported  by  evi- 
dence. Assuming,  however,  that 
the  viper  did  it,  we  could  under- 
stand how  each  of  the  young  was 
nourished  when  inside  of  its  own 
egg  ;  but  how»would  they  be  fed,  or 
eveji  kept  alive,  after  leaving  the 
eggs  and  entering  and  perhaps  run- 
ning about  the  abdomen  at  large? 
And  why  should  snakes  at  least 
seven  inches  long,  emerging  from 
eggs  one-seventh  that  length,  be 
found  unborn  when  they  proved 
themselves  so  knowing  on  being 
forced  to  the  light  of  day  ?  Do  un- 
born animals  of  any  kind  act  in  that 
way  ?  And  how  did  eggs  that  would 
yield  snakes  four-and-a-half  or  five 
inches  long  when  hatched,  produce 
ones  from  two-and-a-half  to  three 
inches  longer  before  being  born  ? 
And  if  they  were  born  inside,  what 
had  become  of  the  shells  or  rather 
coverings  of  the  eggs  ?  If  they  had 
been  voided,  why  should  not  the 
young  which  they  contained  have 
followed  in  the  same  direction,  and 
at  the  same  time?  White,  by  his 
own  admission,  knew  little  or  noth- 
ing of  the  matter,  and  paid  no  re- 
gard to  what  others  testified  to  of 
their  own  knowledge  as  to  the  swal- 
lowing of  the  young.  He  had  most 
probably  seen  the  snake  that  con- 
tained the  eggs  and  killed  the  one 
himself  containing  the  young,  and 
concluded  that  therefore  these  young 
must  have  been  hatched  inside.* 

*  It  is  surprising  that  White  should 
have  commented  on  this  subject  so 
superficially  and  unsatisfactorily,  after 
contemplating  the  eggs  and  the  young 


It  must  therefore  be  held  that  the 
viper,  like  all  animals  producing 
eggs,  is  really  an  oviparous  one, 
bringing  forth  her  young  like  other 
serpents  of  her  kind — that  is,  lays 
eggs  to  be  hatched  by  the  elements, 
and  discharges  her  maternal  duties 
like  them  by  taking  them  inside  of 
her  on  occasions,  unless  it  can  be 
proved  otherwise  by  evidence  that 
cannot  be  controverted.  I  of  course 
mean  when  the  animal  is  in  her  nat- 
ural state  and  not  in  captivity, 
which  would  probably  somewhat 
modify  her  instincts  and  habits. 
How  could  it  be  known  that  the 
eggs  of  vipers  are  hatched  inside 
unless  noticed  at  the  time  of  birth, 
when  the  young  and  the  substance 
that  covered  them  emerged  to- 
gether, or  the  one  (and  which  one  ?) 
before  the  other,  and  in  the  same 
direction?  And  how  could  it  be 
learned  that  the  eggs  increase  in 
maturity  inside  unless  various  vi- 
pers containing  eggs  are  killed  dur- 
ing the  season,  and  a  comparison  be 
made  as  to  their  respective  con- 
ditions? We  would  have  then  to 
ascertain  where  the  bursting  of  the 
egg  takes  place — that  is,  inside  or 
outside  of  the  animal.  If  it  takes 
place  outside,  no  matter  how  shortly 
after  the  egg  is  laid,  then  is  the  vi- 
per an  oviparous  animal;  and  in 
that  case  how  could  we  find  vipers 
inside  like  those  described  by  White, 
and  as  can  be  found  any  summer  in 
England?  Let  a  viper  containing 
young,  as  described  by  White,  be 
killed  and  submitted  to  properly 
qualified  scientific  men  for  inspec- 
tion, and  they  would  doubtless  soon 
settle  the  question  whether  the 
young  were  unborn  or  had  entered 
the  mother  by  the  mouth.  If  they 
found  the  young  and  the  coverings 
of  the  eggs,  they  could  say  that 
they  had  been  hatched  inside ;  but 
if  they  found  the  young  only,  how 


as  being  inside  of  the  mother.  This 
circumstance  goes  a  very  long  way  to 
prove  that  he  was  not  a  scientific  natu- 
ralist. 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  THE  VIPER. 


could  they  say  that  they  had  been 
so  hatched,  and  not  taken  in  at  the 
mouth,  in  common  with  all  the 
American  snakes,  so  far  as  known  ? 
Thereafter  they  could  examine  the 
anatomy  of  both,  and  if  they  found 
both  alike,  what  reason  could  they 
have  for  saying  that  the  viper  did 
not,  and  could  not,  swallow  her 
young,  like  the  American  serpents, 
whether  the  bursting  of  the  egg 
took  place  at  the  time  of  birth,  or 
before  it,  or  after  it  had  been  laid  ? 
Being  both  snakes,  and  conceiving 
eggs  in  the  same  way,  with  the 
young  more  or  less  developed  in 
them  when  laid  (as  laid  they  must 
be),  it  must  be  held,  as  I  have  just 
said,  that  vipers  are  not  on)y  ovi- 
parous, but  "  swallowers,"  unless  it 
can  be  proved  that  they  are  neither, 
which  would  be  an  exceedingly  dif- 
ficult if  not  impossible  matter  to  do, 
for  the  most  that  could  be  said 
would  be  that  it  was  not  known, 
which  would  only  prove  ignorance 
in  regard  to  the  subject. 

So  far  from  its  being  even  plaus- 
ible to  say  of  White's  vipers  that 
there  was  "  little  room  to  suppose 
that  the  brood  had  ever  been  in  the 
open  air  before,"  there  is  every  rea- 
son for  saying  that  they  had  been  in 
the  world  for  such  time  as  enabled 
them  to  add  perhaps  two  inches  to 
their  length,  and  gain  considerable 
experience,  which  would  account 
for  their  being  so  exceedingly  ac- 
tive, like  their  American  relations. 
They  had  simply  been  swallowed, 
but  not  from  fear,  at  least  immedi- 
ate fear,  for  the  mother  was  enjoy- 
ing herself  by  lying  in  the  grass  and 
basking  in  the  sun  when  killed  (like 
the  American  snake  on  the  top  of  a 
dry  stone  wall),  having  no  fear  for 
her  young  inside  of  her  while  she 
herself  was  safe.  That  is  done  in 
America  for  no  apparent  reason ; 
perhaps  merely  to  gratify  the  natu- 
ral instinct  of  the  mother,  however 
she  might  feel  in  the  event  of  her 
family  quarrelling,  when,  I  presume, 
she  would  be  only  too  glad  to  drive 


them  forth  by  the  same  power  that 
enabled  her  to  swallow  them. 

I  have  given  a  form  of  experi- 
ment for  testing  whether  or  not 
vipers  swallow  their  young,  by  ex- 
amining a  dead  one.  I  will  now 
explain  how  it  might  be  tried  in  the 
person  of  a  living  one.  Let  some 
one  procure  a  pregnant  viper  (but 
distinguishing  the  appearance  from 
that  of  having  swallowed  an  animal 
much  thicker  than  herself),  and 
confine  her  in  an  open  space  suit- 
able to  her  natural  disposition,  but* 
from  which  she  could  not  escape, 
and  watch  results.  If  she  is  preg- 
nant with  eggs  she  will  either  de- 
posit them  like  American  snakes, 
or  retain  them,  according  to  White's 
theory,  to  be  hatched  inside  of  her. 
If  she  lays  the  eggs  she  will  return 
to  her  natural  size,  and  continue  so 
till  the  eggs  are  hatched  and  the 
young  ones  require  her  care,  when 
they  will  either  be  seen  with  her  or 
found  inside  of  her,  which  will 
manifest  itself  in  her  second  preg- 
nancy, causing  her  to  become  more 
"  heavy  and  bloated  "  as  they  in- 
crease in  size.  If  she  is  caught 
when  pregnant  with  young,  there 
will  be  times  that  they  will  be  seen, 
causing  a  corresponding  diminution 
in  her  size,  and  times  when  they 
will  not  be  seen,  causing  her  again 
to  appear  pregnant  from  having 
swallowed  them.  If  she  was  preg- 
nant with  eggs,  and  brings  forth  ac- 
cording to  White,  it  would  not  be 
possible,  in  her  comparative  free- 
dom, to  have  a  midwife  present  to 
ascertain  whether  the  eggs  were 
hatched  inside  or  outside  of  the 
animal,  or  what  became  of  the 
shells,  that  is,  whether  young  and 
shells  were  voided  at  the  same  time, 
or  which  first.  If,  however,  she 
came  in  pregnant,  and  suddenly 
produced  young  after  remaining  in 
her  original  state  night  and  day  for 
a  considerable  time  (which  fact 
never  could  be  ascertained),  then 
White's  theory,  to  a  certain  extent, 
would  appear  correct  as  to  the  hatch- 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  THE  VIPER. 


ing ;  for  the  eggs  of  the  American 
snake  appear  to  be  laid  immediately 
after  being  formed,  as  they  are 
'  sometimes  found  in  the  ground  con- 
taining only  the  slightest  tinge  of 
foetus,  but  otherwise  exactly  as  I 
took  them  out  of  the  animal,  when 
I  discovered  no  appearance  of  that 
in  the  eggs,  which  I  examined  (but 
not  carefully)  with  the  naked  eye. 

Mr.  Frank  Buckland  has  agreed 
to  test  the  phenomenon  of  swallow- 
ing in  a  very  unphilosophical  way, 
by  procuring  a  viper  with  young 
already  born  or  hatched — he  prob- 
ably does  not  know  which — and 
asks  for  proof  of  the  swallowing 
while  the  creature  is  in  the  hands 
of  the  Philistines,  when  she  has  no 
call  to  do  it,  to  cany  the  young 
anywhere,  or  protect  them  from  the 
weather,  or  preserve  them  from  ap- 
proaching danger  that  is  avoidable. 
In  short,  her  captivity  prevents  that 
which  Mr.  Buckland  insinuates  it 
should  lead  to — a  very  ingenious 
and  frank  way  to  choke  off  pro- 
swallowers.  Cats  generally  will  not 
even  look  at  rats  when  interfered 
with  in  their  own  way  and  place  of 
tackling  them.  There  is  nothing 
to  prevent  Mr.  Buckland  making 
the  experiments  I  have  suggested. 
He  has  already  "  taken  proceed- 
ings "  in  the  matter,  but  in  a  very 
unreasonable  manner ;  and  it  is  to 
be  hoped  he  will  do  something  fur- 
ther, and  gratify  the  curiosity  of 
naturalists  everywhere,  whatever 
the  result  might  be. 

I  need  not  suggest  the  experiment 
of  trying  to  hatch  the  eggs  of  the 
viper  in  a  temperature  like  that  of 
the  place  from  which  they  were  tak- 
en, in  the  same  way  that  the  Amer- 
ican brought  forth  his  snakes  on 
the  mantelpiece ;  for  if  she  lays  eggs, 
that  would  settle  the  question  as  to 
her  being  a  "  swallower."  I  may, 
however,  say  something  more  about 
the  American  experiment.  The 
gentleman  who  conducted  it  I  had 
hunted  up,  after  a  lapse  of  thirteen 
years  (sometimes  a  rather  difficult 


matter  in  America),  and  examined 
fully.  There  was  no  fire  burn- 
ing, as  it  was  in  July.  He  killed 
the  mother,  which  was  hovering 
about,  apparently  in  the  expectation 
of  her  services  being  required,  as 
the  eggs  proved  very  near  the  hatch- 
ing point.  He  took  one  of  them  to 
his  place  of  business  in  New  York, 
to  satisfy  incredulous  people,  and 
fortunately  the  birth  took  place  on 
a  table,  in  the  presence  of  several 
people.  The  young  snake,  which 
measured  six  inches  in  length,  made 
its  appearance  by  the  head,  gradu- 
ally uncoiling  itself  out  of  its  pris- 
on, which  was  an  inch  long,  but 
not  nearly  so  broad,  and  did  not 
break  in  pieces  like  a  brittle  fowl's 
egg  on  being  hatched,  but  opened  in 
two,  as  the  outside  covering  of  some 
kinds  of  nuts  come  apart.  It  proved 
of  the  ordinary  brown  striped  spe- 
cies (a  harmless  kind),  the  same  as 
the  old  one  killed,  which  was  about 
three  feet  long — an  exact  descrip- 
tion of  the  one  from  which  I  took 
the  young  ones.  Immediately  after 
it  disengaged  itself,  it  began  to 
move  about  in  a  pretty  lively  way 
like  snakes,  but  did  not  prove  in 
any  way  belligerent  when  touched. 
It  was  then  put  into  spirits  and  pre- 
served. The  substance  covering  it 
resembled  ordinary  paper  in  thick- 
ness, and  dry,  but  considerably  at- 
tenuated from  its  original  condi- 
tion.* The  eggs  found  by  this 
gentleman  were  in  a  pretty  bunch 
or  cluster,  all  sticking  together,  but 
how  formed  he  did  not  know  till  I 
told  him  that  before  being  laid  they 
were  in  a  string,  lying  along  the 
back  of  the  snake,  loosely  connect- 

*  If  fifteen  or  twenty  eggs,  lying  along 
the  back  of  a  snake,  were  hatched  inside 
in  the  way  described,  we  would  have,  on 
a  small  scale,  something  worse  than  an 
earthquake.  Or,  imagine  the  eggs,  hatch- 
ed at  birth  like  the  bursting  of  a  shell  at 
the  mouth  of  a  gun,  or  some  time  after 
leaving  it,  and  returning  to  the  gun, 
without  being  taken  into  it,  and  we 
would  have  the  doctrine  of  anti-swal- 
lowers  well  illustrated. 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  THE  VIPER. 


ed  by  a  soft  glutinous  substance, 
and  apparently  ready  to  be  laid ; 
when  he  concluded  with  me  that 
they  had  all  been  deposited  at 
once,  with  a  spiral  or  circular  turn 
of  the  animal,  which  would  give 
them  the  shape  in  which  they  were 
found.  The  New  Jersey  and  Illi- 
nois gentlemen  assert  that  the  eggs 
found  by  them  (about  three  inches 
below  the  surface  in  loose  soil  in 
Illinois)  were  not  so  connected  to- 
gether—  but  then  they  ploughed 
them  up.*  Those  from  Long  Island 
and  Illinois  assert  that  different 
kinds  of  snakes  are  found  on  the 
same  ground,  although  my  experi- 
ence, which  was  much  less  than 
theirs,  found  it  otherwise-!  The 
young  of  a  snake  from  two  to  three 
feet  long,  when  born,  they  say,  are 
from  four-and-a-half  to  six  inches 


*  The  eggs  found  on  Long  Island  had 
evidently  been  deposited  in  a  confined 
space,  which  would  make  them  bunch 
or  cluster,  in  place  of  being  connected 
by  the  ends,  by  the  glutinous  substance, 
as  when  laid. 

f  Some  kinds  of  snakes  are  found  on 
the  same  ground,  although  they  live 
separately,  except  when  they  hybernate, 
when  several  kinds  are  found  together. 
Some  species  not  only  make  war  upon 
but  devour  others.  Here  is  what  Hun- 
ter, to  whom  I  will  again  refer,  says  on 
the  subject : — 

"  Both  the  rattle  and  black  snakes 
prey  on  them  [the  prairie  dog]  ;  .  .  .  .  but 
their  destruction  would  be  still  more 
considerable  were  it  not  for  the  perpetual 
belligerency  of  these  reptiles"  (p.  177). 
"  The  common  black,  copperhead,  and 
spotted  swamp  snakes  never  fail,  I  be- 
lieve, to  engage  with  and  destroy  them 
[the  rattlesnakes]  whenever  they  meet, 
which,  together  with  the  hostility  that 
exists  between  the  two  species  [of  rattle- 
snakes, the  black  and  parti  coloured], 
prevents  an  increase  that  would  other- 
wise render  the  country  almost  uninhabit- 
able "(p.  179).  "When  the  two  species 
[of  rattlesnakes]  fight,  it  is  by  coiling 
and  striking  at  each  other ;  they  fre- 
quently miss  in  their  aim,  or  rather 
avoid  each  other's  fangs  by  darting 
simultaneously  in  a  direction  different 
from  the  approaching  blow.  When  one 
is  bitten,  it  amounts  to  a  defeat,  and  it 
instantly  retreats  for  a  watering  place, 
at  which,  should  it  arrive  in  time,  it 


in  length,  and,  although  helpless  to 
protect  themselves,  are  exceedingly 
nimble — "sharp  as  needles,"  as 
illustrated  by  their  passing  like  a 
"  continuous  glistening  string"  down 
the  mother's  throat,  when  by  her 
peculiar  "  hiss "  she  calls  them  to 
her  on  the  approach  of  danger,  al- 
though they  are  always  near  her ; 
and  that  very  young  snakes  are 
never  seen  by  themselves,  and  sel- 
dom even  with  the  mother,  for  the 
reason  that  she  has  already  provid- 
ed for  their  disappearance  on  the 
approach  of  danger.  The  Long 
Islander  never  saw  snakes  so  dis- 
appear, but  one  day  he  heard  the 
peculiar  hiss,  the  meaning  of  which 
he  knew  well  from  description,  al- 
though the  snake  was  hidden  from 
view;* and  he  made  a  rush  to  where 
it  seemed  to  be,  to  see  the  phenom- 


slakes  its  thirst,  swells,  and  dies.  I  have 
witnessed  the  effects  of  the  poison  on 
their  own  bodies,  or  on  those  of  the  an- 
tagonist species,  in  several  instances, 
and  have  never  known  one  that  was 
bitten  to  recover,  notwithstanding  the 
generally  prevailing  opinion  to  the  con- 
trary, that  such  instinctively  resort  to 
efficient  antidotes"  (p.  179).  "In  one 
instance,  I  vexed  a  rattlesnake  till  it  bit 
itself,  and  subsequently  saw  it  die  from 
the  poison  of  its  own  fangs.  I  also  saw 
one  strangled  in  the  wreathed  folds  of 
its  inveterate  enemy,  the  black-snake" 
(p.  118).  "  The  other  hostile  snakes 
grasp  their  necks  between  their  teeth, 
wreathe  round,  and  strangle  them  "  (p. 

I79> 

"  Rattlesnakes  ....  would  infest  the 
country  to  a  much  greater  extent,  were  it 
not  for  the  hostility  that  exists  between 
them  and  the  deer.  This  animal,  on  dis- 
covering a  snake,  as  I  have  repeatedly 
witnessed,  retreats  some  distance  from 
it,  then  running  with  great  rapidity 
alights  with  its  collected  feet  upon  it, 
and  repeats  this  manoeuvre  till  it  has  de- 
stroyed its  enemy"  (p.  116). 

Others  state  that  the  deer  runs  round 
and  round  the  snake,  narrowing  the 
circle  each  time,  till  it  lights  upon  it 
with  its  feet,  as  described,  and  destroys 
it.  It  is  not  mentioned  that  the  deer 
destroys  any  other  species  of  snakes  ; 
and,  if  that  is  true,  the  curious  question 
would  arise,  how  is  the  deer  enabled  to 
make  the  distinction  in  the  case  of  the 
rattlesnake  only? 


i6 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  THE  VIPER. 


enon,  but  he  was  too  late,  for  the 
young  ones  had  already  been  swal- 
lowed. He,  however,  killed  the 
snake,  when  the  young  ones  ran  out 
of  her  mouth.  They  proved  of  the 
same  species  as  those  hatched  by 
him,  and  those  taken  by  me  out  of 
a  snake.  He  said  that  the  mother 
became  comparatively  helpless  after 
the  operation,  and  showed  a  won- 
derful disregard  for  her  own  safety 
in  her  desire  to  protect  her  family. 
The  Illinois  gentleman  positively 
asserted  that  he  had  seen  a  young 
black-snake,  fully  a  foot  and  a  half 
long,  enter  the  mouth  of  its  mother, 
which  was  fully  six  feet  in  length. 
As  a  general  thing,  a  knowledge  of 
the  habits  of  snakes,  more  than  per- 
haps any  other  animal,  can  be  ac- 
quired only  by  a  person  collecting 
the  experience  of  others,  and  com- 
paring it  with  his  own ;  one  having 
observed  one  thing,  and  another 
another.  None  I  have  spoken  to 
know  how  new-born  snakes  are  fed. 
They  suppose  that  being  born  so 
active  they  gather  their  food  as 
newly-hatched  chickens  do — pick- 
ing it  up  themselves,  perhaps  with 
the  assistance  of  the  mother,  but, 
of  course,  seizing  much  smaller 
prey  than  would  suit  her.  They 
do  not  consider  it  impossible  that 
they  might  at  first  be  nourished  by 
the  mother  by  the  same  means  she 
uses  for  their  protection  when  she 
takes  them  down  her  throat.  All 
over  America  young  people  are 
often  killing  snakes,  some  of  them 
pregnant  with  young  and  some  with 
eggs,  and  sometimes  the  same  spe- 
cies pregnant  with  both,  but  not,  of 
course,  at  the  same  time,  which,  as 
well  as  swallowing  of  the  young, 
cause  them  no  small  astonishment, 
and  there  the  matter  rests.  But 
older  and  more  intelligent  people 
understand  the  phenomenon  of  the 
animal  laying  her  eggs  to  be  hatch- 
ed in  the  soil,  and  then  taking  the 
young  inside  of  her  for  their  pro- 
tection ;  and  they  often  express 
their  surprise  that  this  peculiarity 


of  the  serpent  tribe  is  not  describ- 
ed, or  hardly  recorded,  in  the  pages 
of  natural  history.  There  are  a 
great  variety  of  snakes  in  America. 
Sometimes  in  the  West,  on  a  small- 
sized  farm  containing  prairie  and 
timber  and  a  little  swampy  land, 
there  will  be  found  at  least  seven 
different  kinds.  All  over  the  coun- 
try they  are  found  in  the  gardens, 
and  at  times  in  the  barns,  corn- 
cribs  and  milk-houses,  and  occa- 
sionally even  in  the  houses. 

I  will  conclude  by  saying  that, 
for  the  many  reasons  given,  the 
British  viper  is  doubtless  a  "  swal- 
lower,"  and  oviparous  or  semi-ovi- 
parous. It  would  be  strange  in- 
deed if  the  alleged  fact  of  her  swal- 
lowing her  young  cannot  be  proved 
by  trustworthy  ocular  testimony. 
If  it  can  be  demonstrated  that  she 
is  even  semi-oviparous  in  the  proper 
sense  of  the  word,  then  it  necessa- 
rily follows  that  she  is  a  "  swal- 
lower,"  since  she  is  found  with 
young  inside  of  her. 

The  philosophical  naturalist, 
of  all  men,  should  be  guided  in 
these  matters  by  his  reason,  by 
analogy  and  the  nature  of  things, 
along  with  his  eyes,  and  not  by  his 
eyes  alone,  and  should  remember 
that  facts  in  natural  history  take 
precedence  of  everything.  The 
snake  has  neither  feet,  wings,  nor 
fins,  and  is  easily  disabled,  a  sharp 
stroke  with  a  switch  being  sufficient 
to  break  the  back  of  one  of  con- 
siderable size;  and  many  of  them 
have  little  or  no  means  of  defence 
to  protect  themselves,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  sometimes  twenty  of  a 
progeny.  As  mammals  are  pro- 
vided with  means  for  giving  birth 
to  their  large-sized  young,  it  is 
not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that 
serpents,  at  the  proper  season,  are 
enabled  to  receive  theirs  down  their 
throats  for  protection.  The  anat- 
omy of  their  mouths,  throats,  and 
stomachs  will  doubtless  substantiate 
this  opinion.  Such  a  phenomenon 
is  not  contrary  to  the  laws  of  nature, 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  SNAKES. 


but  rather  illustrative  of  them.  For, 
as  St.  Paul  says,  "  All  flesh  is  not 
the  same  flesh;  for  there  is  one 
kind  of  flesh  of  men,  another  flesh 
of  beasts,  another  of  fishes,  and 
another  of  birds,"  and  we  might 
add  another  of  serpents,  each  having 
natural  laws  peculiar  to  itself,  and 
illustrating  the  wonderfully  diversi- 
fied works  of  the  Creator  of  all. 


The  serpent,  however  much  she  is 
hated,  has  been  an  object  of  inter- 
est, wonder,  or  worship  at  all 
times  and  among  all  nations.  In 
Genesis  she  is  described  as  "  more 
subtile  than  any  beast  of  the  field," 
and  the  highest  of  all  authority 
commands  us  to  imitate  her  for  her 
wisdom,  provided  it  is  allied  with 
the  harmlessness  of  the  dove. 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  SNARES.* 


WHITE,  in  his  Natural  History 
of  Selborne,  page  126,  edi- 
tion 1833,  says: — "Monographers, 
come  from  whence  they  may,  have, 
I  think,  fair  pretence  to  challenge 
some  regard  and  approbation  from 
the  lovers  of  natural  history ;  for, 
as  no  man  can  alone  investigate  all 
the  works  of  nature,  these  partial 
writers  may,  each  in  his  depart- 
ment, be  more  accurate  in  their  dis- 
coveries, and  freer  from  errors,  than 
more  general  writers,  and  so  by  de- 
grees may  pave  the  way  to  a  univer- 
sal correct  natural  history."  "  Men 
that  undertake  only  one  district  are 
much  more  likely  to  advance  na- 
tural knowledge  than  those  that 
grasp  at  more  than  they  can  pos- 
sibly be  acquainted  with.  Every 
kingdom,  every  province,  should 
have  its  own  monographer "  (p. 
128).  "  It  has  been  my  misfortune 
never  to  have  had  any  neighbours 
whose  studies  have  led  them  to- 
ward the  pursuit  of  natural  know- 
ledge ;  so  that,  for  want  of  a  com- 
panion to  quicken  my  industry  and 
sharpen  my  attention,  I  have  made 
but  slender  progress  in  a  kind  of 
information  to  which  I  have  been 
attached  from  my  childhood "  (p. 
39).  "  It  is  no  small  undertaking 
for  a  man,  unsupported  and  alone, 
to  begin  a  natural  history  from  his 
own  autopsia.  Though  there  is 
endless  room  for  observation  in  the 


field  of  nature,  which  is  boundless, 
yet  investigation  (where  a  man  en- 
deavours to  be  sure  of  his  facts)  can 
make  but  slow  progress ;  and  all 
that  one  could  collect  in  many 
years  would  go  into  a  very  narrow 
compass  "  (p.  118). 

A  state  of  ignorance  in  regard 
to  the  serpent  tribe  cannot  be  said 
to  exist  in  America,  although  the 
knowledge  possessed  by  people  is 
of  a  casual  and  partial  nature,  more 
or  less  recent  and  rusty,  and  dis- 
connected from  any  theory  or  sys- 
tem, which  makes  it  all  the  more 
reliable  to  a  person  who  will  gather 
it  up,  like  pieces  of  a  puzzle  lying 
loosely  around,  and  arrange  it  into 
a  whole.  In  the  event  of  the  pres- 
ent papers  finding  their  way  back 
to  America,  and  being  so  brought 
before  the  notice  of  the  public  as 
to  really  interest  it,  I  am  satisfied 
that  more  could  be  collected  from, 
intelligent  people  in  or  from  country 
places,  than  one  would  perhaps  care 
to  be  troubled  with ;  for  to  them  a 
story  about  snakes  is  always 
interesting. f  I  am  really  astonish- 

*  Dated  January  nth,  1873;  printed 
July  igth  and  August  ^3d. 

f  Under  the  article  "  American  Sci- 
ence Convention  on  Snakes"  it  will  bo 
seen  that  a  newspaper  notice  on  the  sub- 
ject of  snakes  called  forth,  from  different 
parts  of  the  United  States,  no  less  than 
ninety-six  answers,. 


18 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  SNAKES. 


ed  at  how  much  I  meet  with  inci- 
dentally, sometimes  where  I  could 
hardly  have  expected  it.  Thus  I 
was  introduced  to  a  gentleman  who 
had  seen  an  adder  on  Staten  Island, 
with  many  young  ones,  which  al- 
most instantly  disappeared,  he 
did  not  know  how;  but  he  killed 
her,  and  as  she  seemed  very 
4<  heavy  and  bloated,"  he  cut  her 
open,  and  found  upwards  of  twenty 
young  ones  inside  of  her.  The 
dog  of  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine 
killed  another  adder,  and  shook  the 
eggs  out  of  her,  when  they  appear- 
ed ready  to  be  laid;  and  he  him- 
self happened  to  kick  a  piece  of 
loose  turf  near  his  house,  and  found 
a  nest  of  brown  striped  snake's 
eggs  under  it,  very  near  the  hatch- 
ing point.  On  a  trip  to  Baltimore, 
at  the  new  year,  I  dropped  into 
conversation  on  the  subject  of 
snakes  with  three  people  only,  who 
happened  to  sit  next  me,  with  the 
following  result.  First,  with  a  Vir- 
ginia Negro,  who  found,  when  hoe- 
ing a  field  of  Indian  corn,  a  nest  of 
black-snake's  eggs,  twenty-eight  in 
number,  and  very  near  the  time  of 
hatching.  The  next  was  an  engin- 
eer or  machinist,  returning  from 
doing  a  job  on  the  railroad,  who 
saw  a  snake,  close  to  water,  in 
the  State  of  Delaware,  with  fully 
twenty  young  ones,  which  in- 
stantly entered  her  mouth,  when 
she  plunged  into  the  stream.  The 
other  was  a  very  respectable- 
looking  and  intelligent  farmer,  from 
the  same  State,  who  saw  the  ordi- 
nary brown  striped  snake  swallow 
her  young,  when  he  killed  her,  and 
found  them  more  than  half  way 
down  her  body.  He  also  found  a 
nest  of  eggs  of  the  same  species, 
nearly  ready  to  be  hatched,  under  a 
shallow  stone  that  little  more  than 
rested  on  the  ground,  when  clearing 
up  a  field.  Both  these  men  said  that 
they  were  so  completely  fascinated 
by  the  phenomenon,  and  the  "  quick 
as  winkie"  way  in  which  the  young 
disappeared,  that  they  lost  their 


presence  of  mind  for  the  moment, 
as  happens  with  every  one  on  such 
occasions,  especially  for  the  first 
time.  Indeed,  the  plunging  of  the 
snake  into  the  water  with  all  her 
family  aboard  of  her  took  away  the 
man's  breath,  as  for  an  instant  it 
did  mine,  till  I  saw  and  was  told  it 
was  a  water-snake.  I  immediately 
remembered  that  an  acquaintance, 
worthy  of  every  confidence,  told 
me  that  he  had  several  times  seen 
water-snakes  in  North  Carolina 
swallow  their  young.  Water  is,  per- 
haps for  the  most  part,  their  natural 
element,  to  which  they  flee  in  time 
of  danger,  and  they  are  always 
near  it,  somewhat  like  water-rats. 
In  approaching  people  for  informa- 
tion, so  far  from  putting  leading 
questions,  I  almost  invariably  begin 
as  one  utterly  ignorant  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  dropping  on  it  by  acci- 
dent, and  let  them  tell  their  stories 
complete,  and  if  time  and  circum- 
stances permit,  then  question  and 
cross-question  them  to  the  most 
minute  detail,  in  the  most  approved 
legal  way,  giving  them  at  the  close 
of  the  "  investigation  "  my  reasons 
for  doing  so.  I  almost  invariably 
find  them  "  interested  witnesses  " 
in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word, 
easy  to  manage,  and  excited,  as  most 
people  who  have  been  brought  in 
contact  with  snakes  are  apt  to  be, 
on  the  subject  being  mentioned  to 
them.  In  America  those  that  no- 
tice animated  nature  are  always  in- 
telligent, whatever  might  be  their 
education,  and  generally  men  of 
humanity  in  proportion  to  the  in- 
terest they  take  in  the  subject.  But, 
as  Gilbert  White  says,  "  the  bane  of 
our  science  is  the  comparing  of 
one  animal  to  the  other  by  mem- 
ory" (p.  135),  which  applies  to 
some  extent  to  the  composition  of 
these  papers,  and  gives  them  a 
rather  rambling  character,  but  per- 
haps adds  to  what  interest  they 
may  possess  for  that  very  reason. 
Thus,  to  return  to  the  American 
snakes  swallowing  their  young. 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  SNAKES. 


When  the  young  enter  the  mother, 
they  must,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
turn  themselves  and  lie  inside  in  the 
same  direction  as  her,  for  the  air, 
"bringing  their  heads  to  wind- 
ward ;"  and  that  is  done  very  quick- 
ly, as  they  ran  out  of  the  mouth  of 
the  mother  killed  by  the  Long  Is- 
lander so  soon  after  he  heard,  at  a 
few  paces  off,  her  hiss  for  her  pro- 
geny to  betake  themselves  to  their 
place  of  refuge.  And  that  reminds 
me  that  the  young  snakes  taken  out 
of  the  mother  in  my  presence  all 
lay  in  the  same  direction.  White 
says  that  the  viper  killed  by  him 
was  "crowded  with  young."  In 
America  the  phrase  is  "  packed  "  or 
"  stuffed "  with  them,  the  usual 
number  given  being  "  about  twenty" 
or  "  fully  twenty."  The  Virginia 
Negro,  as  I  have  already  said, 
counted  twenty-eight  eggs  in  a  nest, 
all  with  young  that  would  be  hatch- 
ed in  three  or  four  days,  judging 
from  his  experience  with  fowls' 
eggs.  Other  nests  are  found  with 
as  few  as  twelve  or  thirteen  eggs. 
The  eggs  of  snakes  cannot  addle 
for  the  same  reason  as  fowls',  for 
the  only  natural  risk  they  run  is 
from  the  elements ;  and  the  animal 
is  so  "  wise  in  her  generation  "  as 
to  choose  a  place  of  deposit  safe 
from  everything  except,  perhaps, 
excessive  rain  or  cold.  The  water- 
snake  deposits  her  eggs  in  little 
island-like  hillocks,  a  little  above 
the  water-mark,  and  covers  them 
with  what  dry  stuff  she  can  find  on 
them. 

It  is  necessary  for  snakes  to  have 
a  large  progeny  to  provide  against 
their  many  enemies,  of  which  the 
pig  is  not  the  least  formidable  ;  for 
the  best  means  of  ridding  a  neigh- 
bourhood of  snakes,  even  the  most 
venomous,  is  to  turn  out  the  pigs 
for  the  purpose.  They  fight  the 
rattlesnake  most  scientifically,  dodg- 
ing it,  and  at  the  worst  presenting 
the  cheek  or  side  of  the  neck  to  its 
blow,  when  they  seize  it,  and  with 
their  teeth  and  feet  soon  rend  it.  It 


is  difficult  for  poisonous  snakes  to 
injure  a  pig,  for  its  skin,  fat,  and 
absence  of  small  veins  generally, 
prevent  serious  consequences. 
When  a  rattlesnake  is  killed,  and 
placed  on  a  road  where  a  pig  will 
pass,  the  pig  starts  aside  at  first, 
and  then  seizes  the  snake  with  great 
gusto,  to  the  amusement  of  those 
placing  it  there  for  the  purpose. 
The  Illinois  gentleman,  mentioned 
in  the  first  and  second  papers,  when 
going  to  his  hay-field,  saw  a  black- 
snake  swallow  her  young,  and  drove 
his  hay-fork  into  her,  and  carried 
mother  and  young  over  his  shoulder 
and  threw  them  into  his  pig-pen, 
when  the  animals  started,  but  as 
quickly  proceeded  to  enjoy  their 
delicacy. 

I  will  now  consider  what  White 
of  Selborne  put  on  record  about 
snakes  depositing  their  eggs  and 
shedding  their  skins,  prefacing 
what  1  have  to  say  with  some  gener- 
al remarks  of  his  own.  He  wrote : 
"  Candour  forbids  me  to  say  abso- 
lutely that  any  fact  is  false  because 
I  have  never  been  witness  to  such  a 
fact"  (p.  127).  "  My  remarks  are 
the  result  of  many  years'  observa- 
tion, and  are,  I  trust,  true  on  the 
whole ;  though  I  do  not  pretend  to 
say  that  they  are  perfectly  void  of 
mistake,  or  that  a  more  nice  ob- 
server might  not  make  many  addi- 
tions, since  subjects  of  this  kind 
are  inexhaustible  "  (p.  180).  "  The 
question  which  you  put  with  re- 
gard to  those  genera  of  animals 
that  are  peculiar  to  America  .  .  . 
is  too  puzzling  for  me  to  answer ; 
and  yet  so  obvious  as  often  to  have 
struck  me  with  wonder  "  (p.  90), 
— which  remark  was  applicable,  at 
the  time,  to  the  opossum,  which  car- 
ries her  progeny  in  her  pouch,  to 
which  they  flee  in  time  of  danger; 
while  she  will  feign  dead,  notwith- 
standing the  roughness  of  the  usage 
she  may  receive,  when  she  finds  she 
cannot  escape;  this  peculiarity 
being  also  exhibited  by  the  young 
before  they  have  left  the  mother. 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  SNAKES. 


"  This  would  be  adding  wonder  to 
wonder,  and  instancing  in  a  fresh 
manner  that  the  methods  of  Provi- 
dence are  not  subject  to  any  mode 
or  rule,  but  astonish  us  in  new  lights, 
and  in  various  and  changeable  ap- 
pearances "  (p.  1 1 1).  These  quota- 
tions, and  those  to  follow,  are  taken 
from  his  observations  on  subjects  in 
which  he  was  perfectly  at  home,  and 
are  now  applied  to  those  of  which 
he  knew  very  little,  as  he  admitted, 
and  for  that  reason  are  much  more 
applicable  to  the  two  questions  on 
hand. 

In  America  snakes  are  found 
pregnant  with  eggs  in  the  spring, 
or  early  in  the  summer;  then  the 
eggs  are  hatched  in  the  ground,  and 
the  young  are  found  with  the  mother 
or  inside  of  her.  The  interval  be- 
tween the  laying  and  the  hatching 
may  be  six  weeks ;  the  Illinois  gen- 
tleman says  it  may  be  four  or  five 
weeks,  so  difficult  is  it  to  arrive  at 
the  time  actually  required,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  uncertainty  of  a  per- 
son's memory  in  regard  to  what  he 
has  casually  observed.  The  Vir- 
ginia Negro  said  that  the  eggs  he 
found  when  hoeing  his  Indian  corn 
could  not  possibly  have  been  de- 
posited till  after  the  ground  was 
ploughed,  which  could  not  have 
been  more  than  six  weeks  previous 
to  the  eggs  being  found  very  near 
the  hatching  point.  In  the  Middle 
and  Western  States  the  ground  is 
ploughed  for  corn  say  about  the  ist 
of  May,  planted  on  the  8th,  and 
hoed  on  the  3ist,  which  would  make 
a  month ;  and  allow  a  week  more 
for  the  Virginia  style  of  farming, 
and  we  have  about  five  weeks  for 
the  eggs  to  mature.  The  time  that 
intervened  between  the  dog  shaking 
the  eggs  out  of  the  snake  and  its 
owner  finding  a  nest  of  them  nearly 
ready  to  hatch  (although  they  were 
of  different  species)  was  exactly  a 
month ;  so  that  four  or  five  weeks 
would  be  a  safe  estimate  for  the 
time  a  snake's  eggs  require  to 
hatch.  I  admit  that  there  may  be 


some  difference  between  the  British 
and  American  snakes,  as  there  is 
between  .the  rabbits,  for  the  Ameri- 
can rabbit  does  not  burrow — as 
illustrated  by  an  American's  remark 
when  he  said,  "  I  will  give  ^5  for 
every  hole  dug  by  an  American  rab- 
bit, which  does  not  show  even  a 
scrape  of  its  foot  on  the  ground." 
But  between  the  snakes  there  can- 
not be  such  a  difference  as  is  im- 
plied in  White's  remark,  when  he 
says  : — "  Snakes  lay  chains  of  eggs 
every  summer  in  my  melon  beds,  in 
spite  of  all  that  my  people  can  do 
to  prevent  them,  which  eggs  do  not 
hatch  till  the  spring  following,  as  I 
have  often  experienced "  (p.  70.) 
Both  snakes  lay  chains  of  eggs,  and 
deposit  them  in  the  ground  ;  but 
why  should  the  eggs  of  British 
snakes  be  laid  in  the  summer,  and 
remain  in  the  earth  all  the  winter, 
and  be  hatched  in  the  spring,  when 
the  eggs  of  the  American  snakes 
are  hatched  in  four  or  five  weeks 
after  being  laid  ?  White's  assertion 
is  contrary  to  the  analogy  of  nature, 
for  it  is  only  the  insects  on  land, 
existing  but  for  a  season,  that  leave 
eggs  to  be  hatched  the  following 
year.  White,  by  his  own  account, 
had  many  opportunities  for  experi- 
menting on  the  hatching  of  snakes' 
eggs.  He  could  easily  have  sur- 
rounded a  nest,  when  they  would 
have  hatched,  although  the  assist- 
ance of  the  mother  might  have  beer« 
necessary  to  remove  the  soil,  to 
allow  the  young  ones  to  come  to  the 
surface ;  but  he  throws  no  light  on 
the  subject.  Even  in  regard  to  his 
favourites,  the  birds,  he  says: — "  I 
am  no  bird  catcher  ;  and  so  little 
used  to  birds  in  a  cage,  that  I  fear, 
if  I  had  one,  it  would  soon  die  for 
want  of  skill  in  feeding"  (p.  116). 
It  is  difficult  to  account  for  his  an- 
tipathy, as  that  of  a  naturalist,  to 
snakes  when  they  could  not  injure 
his  melon  beds,  and  his  indifference 
to  their  peculiarities,  when  he  had 
such  opportunities  for  observing 
them,  for  he  says  : — "  The  reptiles, 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  SNAKES. 


21 


few  as  they  are,  I  am  not  acquainted 
with,  so  well  as  I  could  wish,  with 
regard  to  their  natural'  history. 
There  is  a  degree  of  dubiousness 
and  obscurity  attending  the  propa- 
gation of  this  class  of  animals  "  (p. 
66).  What  he  says^n  regard  to  the 
hatching  of  their  eggs  must,  there- 
fore, be  rejected  in  the  absence  of 
details  of  the  data  from  which  he 
drew  his  conclusion. 

He  says  the  eggs  were  laid  every 
summer  in  his  melon  beds,  in  spite  of 
all  his  people  could  do  to  prevent 
it,  but  siys  nothing  of  the  rest  of 
the  garden,  nor  explains  why  the 
.snakes  preferred  the  other  part  of 
the  ground.  When  the  eggs  were 
deposited,  the  soil  had  either  not 
been  dug,  and,  when  dug,  they 
would  be  discovered  and  destroyed; 
or  the  seeds  of  the  melons  had  been 
sown  or  had  sprung,  when  no  op- 
portunity would  be  given  for  dis- 
covering the  nest,  by  such  cultiva- 
tion as  the  melons  required ;  or,  if 
they  were  so  discovered,  they  would 
be  destroyed  by  the  gardener,  in 
obedience  to  orders,  or- from  his 
natural  antipathy  to  the  animal,  and 
particularly  as  it  would  involve  no 
trouble  in  doing  it.  Besides,  it  is 
natural  to  suppose  a  snake  would 
leave  no  trace  of  her  nest,  unless 
when  she  disturbed  newly  and  fine- 
ly-dressed ground,  requiring  an  ex- 
pert to  tell  what  it  implied,  which 
White's  people  were  not  apt  to  be. 
If  the  eggs  were  not  discovered, 
how  did  White  know  they  were 
there  at  all,  or  if  discovered,  that 
they  were  laid  in  the  summer  and 
hatched  in  the  spring?  Or  how  did 
he  know  that  they  were  not  intended 
for  a  second  brood,  or  were  not  a 
second  laying  after  the  first  had 
been  destroyed  ?  One  cannot  easily 
account  for  the  snakes  preferring 
the  melon  beds  to  the  exclusion  of 
the  rest  of  the  garden,  and  espe- 
cially in  the  face  of  the  persecution 
which  they  suffered  year  after  year 
for  so  doing.  In  short,  White's  as- 
sertion as  to  the  eggs  lying  in  the 


ground  all  winter  must  be  rejected, 
unless  it  could  be  proved;  and  it 
must  be  held  that  British  like 
American  snakes  deposit  eggs  to 
be  hatched  the  same  year.  White, 
at  least,  admits  that  the  viper  con- 
tains eggs  about  the  2yth  of  May, 
and  young  ones  by  the  4th  of  Au- 
gust. 

The  nest  of  the  black-snake,  like 
that  of  other  species,  is  never  found 
except  when  turned  up  by  accident. 
The  Illinois  gentleman,  on  a  closer 
examination,  says  the  eggs,  com- 
pletely covered  by  about  three 
inches  of  loose  soil,  which  slightly 
flattens  the  tops  of  them,  are  found 
neatly  coiled  in  a  solid  circle,  one 
tier  deep,  and  connected  by  a  sub- 
stance like  a  loosely-made  cotton 
thread,  that  is  easily  broken,  and  is 
covered  with  something  like  mildew, 
which  in  a  less  degree  attaches  to 
the  eggs  and  the  earth  immediately 
surrounding  them.  This  connect- 
ing thread,  noticed  by  others  on  a 
like  occasion,  was  the  remains  of 
the  glutinous  substance  connecting 
the  eggs,  which  were  taken  out  of 
one  of  the  same  species  by  myself. 
This  evidence  somewhat  contra- 
dicts that  of  the  Long  Islander, 
who,  however,  insists  that  the  eggs 
found  by  him  were  in  a  bunch  or 
cluster,  but  then  they  were  of  an- 
other species,  and  deposited  in  a 
different  soil.  On  one  occasion,  the 
young,  on  the  eggs  being  opened, 
ran  about  three  yards,  but  died,  ap- 
parently from  the  effects  of  the  sun, 
which  is  doubtless  a  reason  for  the 
mother  taking  them  inside  of  her  for 
some  time  after  birth.  A  snake 
when  at  rest  naturally  chooses  the 
warmest  spot,  where  the  rays  of  the 
sun  are  concentrated,  especially  at 
the  opening  and  closing  of  the  sea- 
son, and  which  would  be  too  strong 
for  her  newly-born  progeny  without 
some  covering.  That  doubtless  ac- 
counts for  the  one  containing  the 
young  being  killed  on  the  top  of  a 
dry  stone  wall,  nearly  three  feet 
high.  I  had  some  difficulty  in  see- 


22 


WHITE  OF  SELBORNE  ON  SNAKES. 


ing  how  she  could  have  got  on  the 
wall  with  so  many  young  inside  of 
her,  till  I  learned  she  was  a  climber, 

'a  friend  having  killed  one  of  the 
same  species  when  emptying  a  bird's 
nest  of  its  young,  about  six  feet  up 
a  tree-like  bush,  when  he  took  the 
birds  out  of  her,  the  mother  all  the 
while  screaming  and  flying  around.* 
In  regard  to  the  snake  shedding 
its  skin,  White  says  : — "  It  would  be 
a  .most  entertaining  sight,  could  a 
person  be  an  eye-witness  to  such  a 
feat,  and  see  the  snake  in  the  act  of 
changing  its  garment  "  (p.  383). 
But  as  that  would  be  a  difficult 
matter,  we  must  judge  of  the  act 
by  the  nature  of  things.  So  uni- 
form is  nature,  that  we  must  con- 
clude that  all  snakes  cast  their 
sloughs  in  the  open  air,  from  the 
fact  of  so  many  being  found  there, 
and,  so  far  as  known,  nowhere  else. 
White  says  that  a  skin  found  by 
him,  in  a  field  near  a  hedge,  "  ap- 
peared as  if  turned  wrong  side  out- 
ward, and  as  drawn  off  backward, 
like  a  stocking  or  woman's  glove." 
But  stockings  and  gloves  cannot  be 
drawn  off  inside  out.  Again  he 
says,  "  snakes  crawl  out  of  the 
mouth  of  their  own  sloughs,"  and 
there  he  is  right,  but  very  confused 
when  he  adds,  "  and  quit  the  tail 
part  last,  just  as  eels  are  skinned  by 
a  cook-maid."  How  could  a  stock- 
ing or  glove  be  drawn  off  "  just  as 
eels  are  skinned "  ?  The  cook 
makes  an  incision  round  the  neck, 
and  takes  hold  of  the  head  in  one 
hand  and  the  skin  in  the  other,  and 
pulls  opposite  ways,  so  that  the  skin 
must  come  off  "wrong  side  out- 
ward." It  would  be  as  impossible 
for  a  snake  to  turn  its  skin  inside 
out,  as  it  came  out  of  it,  as  it  would 
be  for  a  hand  to  draw  itself  out  of 
its  glove  with  the  same  result ;  even 

r.the   glove  must  be  placed  against 


*  Snakes  do  not  ascend  a  tree  cork- 
screw-like, as  some  might  think,  but 
straight  up,  as  they  go  on  the  ground, 
but  not  of  course  so  fast.  Many  of  them 
are  also  excellent  swimmers. 


something  presenting  resistance  to 
allow  the  hand  to  be  pulled  out  of 
it  in  the  ordinary  way.  It  would 
be  interesting  to  see  an  unsophisti- 
cated man  like  White  attempt  with 
his  sock  or  glove  what  he  asserts 
the  snake  must  have  done.  He 
seems  to  have  forgotten  what  he 
said  on  another  occasion.  "  I  de- 
light very  little  in  analogous  reason- 
ing, knowing  how  fallacious  it  is 
with  regard  to  natural  history  "  (p. 
1 06).  "  Ingenious  men  will 
readily  advance  plausible  argu- 
ments to  support  whatever  theory 
they  shall  choose  to  maintain ;  but 
then  the  misfortune  is,  every  one's 
hypothesis  is  each  as  good  as  an- 
other's, since  they  are  all  founded 
on  conjecture "  (p.  90).  The 
British  snake  can  shed  its  skin  in 
no  other  way  than  the  American 
one,  that  is,  leave  it  right  side  out- 
ward, and  no  more  turning  it  than 
a  scabbard  would  be  turned  by  the 
sword  being  drawn  out  of  it,  as  the 
Illinois  gentleman  expressed  it.  If 
snakes  shed  their  skins  when  in  a 
state  of  captivity,  it  should  be 
known  in  England  how  it  is  done. 

The  shedding  of  its  skin  doubt- 
less causes  a  snake  pain  or  sickness, 
but  that  is  not  likely  to  arise  from 
the  thick  part  of  the  body  passing 
through  the  skin  of  a  narrower 
part.  The  stretching  of  the  skin 
in  itself  must  be  a  pleasant  sensa- 
tion, when  the  animal  swallows  its 
prey.  The  sickness  must  proceed 
from  the  skin  separating  from  the 
body,  as  it  probably  does  gradually 
and  all  over.  The  snake  then  re- 
quires something  to  press  its  side 
against,  for  the  resistance  necessary 
to  enable  it  to  pull  itself  out  of  its 
old  garment.f 


f  The  following  appeared  in  Land  and 
Water,  on  the  nth  October,  1873  :— 

"  SNAKES  SHEDDING  THEIR  SKINS. — Sir :  Mr. 
Higford  Burr,  in  Land  and  Water  of  the  i3th 
September,  in  allusion  to  my  article  on  the  23d 
August,  advances  the  idea  of  White  of  Selborne, 
which  I  did  not  consider  of  sufficient  importance 
to  notice,  that  snakes  cast  their  skins  inside  out 
because  '  the  coverings  of  the  eyes  are  concave ' 
or  hollow.  That,  in  my  opinion,  is  the  very  reason 


SNAKES  SWALLOWING  THEIR  YOUNG. 


I  find  that  I  omitted,  in  my  paper 
of  the  1 4th  December,  to  ask  under 
what  circumstances  Mr.  Buckland's 
viper  and  her  young  ones  were 
caught,  and  what  were  their  respec- 
tive lengths,  and  whether  the 
progeny  might  not  have  been  past 
the  swallowing  age,  since  he  has  said 
that  they  had  not  favoured  him  with 
an  exhibition  of  their  dexterity  in 
that  respect. 

Much  is  said  of  the  snake  that 
would  indicate  that  she  is  possessed 
of  wisdom,  but  which  I  will  not  put 
on  record,  for  the  reason  that  I  am 


not  in  a  position  to  vouch  for  it. 
But  in  regard  to  her  taking  care  of 
her  young,  she  must  be  very  wise 
when  contrasted  with  the  ostrich, 
"  which  leaveth  her  eggs  in  the 
earth,  and  warmeth  them  in  the 
dust,  and  forgetteth  that  the  foot 
may  crush  them,  or  that  the  wild 
beast  may  break  them.  She  is 
hardened  against  her  young  ones,  as 
though  they  were  not  heis;  her  la- 
bour is  in  vain  without  fear,  because 
God  hath  deprived  her  of  wisdom, 
neither  hath  he  imparted  to  her  un- 
derstanding."— Job  xxxix.,  14-17.* 


SNAKES  SWALLOWING   THEIR    YOUNG.\ 


A  COMMUNICATION  I  sent 
Land  and  Water,  on  the  i  ith  of 
January,  contained  a  reply  to  the 
question  of  R.  S.  F.,  printed  on  the 
1 8th,  as  to  how  young  snakes  enter 
the  stomach  of  the  mother,  and 
how  they  leave  it.  They  go  in  head 
foremost  and  come  out ,  head  fore- 
most—  turning,  of  course,  inside. 
I  said  that  all  those  taken  out  of  a 


why  they  are  not  cast  '  inside  out.'  Before  the 
snake  can  be~in  to  move  out  of  its  skin  it  must 
lo  sen  itself  at  the  head,  and  then,  as  it  were, 
'crawl  out  of  its  mouth,'  which  would  involve 
more  or  less  tugging,  pulling,  or  wrenching  of  the 
body  to  separate  it  from  the  skin.  When  that 
takes  place,  the  thin,  and  at  first  doubtless  soft, 
scales  of  the  eyes  will  naturally  be  pulled  in,  and 
retain  that  position,  or  fall  into  it,  after  the  slough 
has  been  left  behind.  But  if  the  snake  turns  its 
skin  wrong  side  out  in  any  way,  or  as  White 
supposes  as  l  an  eel  is  skinned,'  then  the  coverings 
of  the  eyes  would  be  pulled  out  or  be  convex. 
Without  examining  the  eyes,  my  own  experience 
and  that  of  others  I  have  conversed  with  on  the 
subject  is  that  the  skins  are  not  found  inside  out  ; 
and  that  must  be  held  to  be  the  true  position  of 
the  matter  till  the  opposite  can  be  demonstrated. 
It  would  have  been  something  to  the  point  had 
Mr.  Burr  told  us  how  the  skin  itself  looked,  for 
surely  any  one  could  easily  tell  of  a  newly-shed  skin 
whether  it  was  right  or  wrong  side  out ;  or  had  he 
informed  us  how  a  snake  could  possibly  turn  its 
i>kin  as  it  came  out  of  it,  and,  in  addition  to  that, 
preserve  in  such  a  convulsion  the  delicate  scales  of 
the  eyes  intact.  He  does  not  say  to  what  extent 
the  eyes  were  concave,  nor  in  what  position  the 
skin  was  found,  nor  its  surroundings  with  reference 
to  its  shedding.  I  refer  him  to  what  I  said  on  the 
subject  on  the  occasion  mentioned,  and  I  would 
add  that  his  finding  the  scales  of  the  eyes  concave 
did  not  warrant  his  conclusion  that  *  there  can  be 
no  further  doubt  about  it,'  that  the  animal  left  its 


snake  by  myself  lay  in  the  same  di- 
rection as  the  mother.  I  did  not 
examine  them  particularly  in  that 
respect,  but  that  was  their  position 
so  far  as  I  noticed  and  remembered. 
They  certainly  were  lying  length- 
wise. The  Illinois  gentleman,  so 
far  as  he  remembers,  found  them 
lying  some  one  way  and  some  an- 
other. He  does  not  consider  it 


garment  the  opposite  way  it  wore  it. — J.  S.  (New 
York,  September  27). 

[According  to  my  experience  the  cast  skins  of 
snakes  are  always  turned  inside  out. — F.  BUCK- 
LAND.]" 

Many  hold  to  the  opinion  expressed 
by  Messrs.  Burr  and  Buckland.  It  is 
simply  a  matter  of  proof,  and  it  can 
be  considered  an  open  question.  How 
a  snake  sheds  its  skin  in  confinement 
would  not  necessarily  be  a  fair  cri- 
terion of  how  it  does  it  in  a  state  of  na- 
ture; for  unless  it  is  furnished  with  the 
means  of  doing  it  as  it  would  choose,  it 
will  be  apt  to  make  a  mess  of  the  opera- 
tion. As  a  question  of  conjecture,  it  is 
much  easier  to  imagine  that  the  reptile 
wriggles  out  of  its  skin  rather  than  parts 
from  it  as  White  describes  the  pheno- 
menon. 

*  It  would  appear  that  Job  is  not  strict- 
ly accurate  in  his  description  of  the 
ostrich.  Neither  he  nor  Solomon  seems 
to  have  noticed  that  the  serpent  swallows 
her  young  for  their  protection. 

f  Dated  February  8th,  1873. 


SNAKES  SWALLOWING  THEIR   YOUNG. 


necessary  that  they  should  turn 
while  confined  in  their  place  of  ref- 
uge, but  that  turn  they  must  when 
they  leave  it. 

I  gave  an  instance  of  their  run- 
ning out  of  a  brown  striped  snake 
after  the  Long  Islander  killed  her. 
I  give  another  in  the  adder,  noticed 
by  a  very  trustworthy  young  friend, 
who  saw  several  young  ones  run  out 
of  the  mother,  when  lying  on  a  road 
fatally  injured  by  some  one,  mashed 
and  helpless.     Having  an  aversion 
to  snakes,  he  did  not  examine  her 
otherwise  than  when   passing,  but 
he   distinctly  saw  the   young  ones 
coming  out  of  the  mouth.     We  can 
only   conjecture   in   regard   to  the 
physical  circumstances  of  the  moth- 
er swallowing  her  young.     She  can 
doubtless  permit  and  refuse  admis- 
sion, by  simply  opening  and  shut- 
ting her  mouth  when  she  ceases  to 
swallow   them,  doubtless  consider- 
ably, if  not  long,  before  she  casts 
them  off  altogether,  as  all  animals 
do  with  their  young.    Perhaps  there 
is  nothing  worthy  of  special  notice 
in   the   anatomy  of    the   throat  or 
stomach  to  receive,  reject,  or  retain 
young  of  a  certain  age,  if  we  judge 
from  the  fact  of  the  young  running 
out  after  the  mother  is  killed,  unless 
it  should  be  that  nature  provides 
her  with  the  instinct  of  giving  a 
passage  in  her  last  gasp  for  the  es- 
cape of  her  progeny.     The  circum- 
stances under  which  the  young  en- 
ter  the    mother    should    influence 
them  in  their  movements  when  in- 
side ;  for,  if  they  enter  under  the  in- 
fluence of  fear,  they  will  naturally 
be  on  the  qui  vive  what  to  do  when 
there,  and  so  turn  inside  to  be  ready, 
if  taken  in  the  rear,  to  run  out  as 
instinctively  as  they  ran  in. 

There  is  a  phrase  in  the  letter  of 
R.  S.  F.  to  which  I  object.  He 
speaks  of  its  being  a  "  theory  "  that 
snakes  swallow  their  young.  The 
right  expression  is^t&at  it  is  a  fact. 
For  example,  as  re-gfcitds  the  black 
and  browrt  ^striped^f'  garter  snake 
in  particujj^  wgjiSave  eggs  taken 


out  of  them,  and  eggs  found  in  the 
ground  when  ready  or  nearly  ready 
to  hatch,  and  then  the  young  found 
in  the  mother.  Should  not  that  sat- 
isfy any  reasonable  person  that  the 
young  were  swallowed?  To  that 
add  that  the  young  have  been  seen 
to  run  out  of  the  mother  when 
killed ;  and,  to  crown  all,  that  they 
have  been  seen  to  run  into  her,  and 
have  been  taken  out  of  her  by  the 
same  people — all  of  which  establish 
it  as  a  fact,  and  not  as  a  theory, 
that  snakes  swallow  their  young. 
If  R.  S.  F.  does  not  know  how 
snakes  are  brought  into  the  world 
and  taken  care  of  in  the  first  stage 
of  their  existence,  and  can  refer  to 
no  one  who  does,  why  should  he 
object  to  what  I  have  written  on  the 
subject?  If  he  admits  that  the 
snake  lays  a  "  string  of  eggs,"  how 
can  he  doubt  that  the  chamber  that 
contained  them  can  also  hold  their 
contents,  to  say  nothing  of  the  ex- 
tra room  when  the  eggs  were  there, 
and  the  further  expansion  of  the 
animal  when  the  young  are  received 
inside  ?  The  turning  inside  would 
seem  to  be  the  easiest  part  of  the 
phenomenon  ;  nor  can  there  be  any 
difficulty  in  believing  that  the  young 
can  be  kept  alive,  after  the  exceed- 
ingly mature  and  lively  vipers  taken 
by  White  of  Selborne  out  of  a 
mother. 

I  avail  myself  of  this  opportunity 
to  suggest  that  Mr.  Buckland  should 
give  us  some  information  regarding 
his  viper  and  her  progeny,  embraced 
under  the  following  heads:  When, 
on  what  kind  of  ground,  where, 
how,  and  by  whom  caught,  and  how 
carried  to  their  present  place  of 
keeping?  What  were  the  mother 
and  young  ones  doing,  and  how  far 
from  each  other  were  they  when 
seen  and  caught  ?  What  resistance 
did  the  old  one  make,  and  how  did 
she  defend  her  young,  and  how  did 
they  act,  on  the  occasion  ?  And 
bow  did  it  happen  that  the  family 
were  bagged  at  the  same  time  ?  Or, 
how  many  of  them  were  caught, 


SNAKE S  SWALLO  WING  THEIR   YO UNG. 


and  how  many  escaped,  and  how  did 
they  escape  ?  What  was  the  length 
of  the  mother  and  progeny  when 
caught  ?  How  have  they  at  vari- 
ous times  been  housed  or  kept? 
If  exposed  to  the  air,  how  did  they 
appear  in  warm,  wet,  and  cold 
weather?  How  watered  and  fed, 
and  particularly,  how  the  young 
ones  were  watered  and  fed  ?  How 
has  the  mother  behaved  towards  the 


family  and  the  family  towards  her, 
and  how  towards  her  keeper  and 
others,  and  the  same  in  regard  to 
the  young  ?  with  a  detailed  account 
of  all  other  particulars  noticed  of 
the  mother  and  young  since  their 
capture.  Did  the  old  one  shed  her 
skin,  and,  if  so,  how  and  when? 
What  are  the  seasons  during  which 
people  from  London  do  and  do  not 
catch  vipers  ? 


SNAKES  SWALLOWING    THEIR    YOUNG* 


"N1 


O  ox  casts  its  hide  so  that  it 
can  be  picked  up  and  made 
boots  of,  no  horse  swallows  a  mouth- 
ful as  wide  if  not  twice  as  wide  as 
its  body,  and  no  sow  on  the  ap- 
proach of  danger  receives  her  in- 
fantile grunters  inside  of  her ;  there- 
fore no  snake  does  any  of  these 
things."  "  If  I  were  told  that  a 
snake  receives  her  young  inside  of 
her,  I  would  not  believe  it  on  any 
evidence,  for  the  reason  that  I  do 
not  understand  how  it  could  be 
done,  or  what  purpose  it  would 
serve." 

Apply  this  style  of  reasoning  to 
the  communication  of  D.  of  York- 
town,  Virginia,  printed  in  Land  and 
Water  on  the  ist  February,  and 
you  have  a  pretty  fair  description 
of  what  is  the  production  of  one 
who  is  evidently  not  an  American. 
He  advances  nothing  of  his  own 
knowledge  nor  of  that  of  others. 
Indeed  he  says,  "  I  am  not  familiar 
with  the  supposed  young-swallowing 
snakes  "  —  a  sufficient  reason  for 
him  to  have  kept  silent  on  the  sub- 
ject ;  but  he  adds,  "  I  have  often  ob- 
served other  kinds" — without  say- 
ing what  kinds,  or  what  he  has  no- 
ticed of  them.  I  doubt  not  he  has 
seen  snakes  in  a  field,  or  crossing  a 
road,  or  along  a  fence,  but  that 


seems  to  be  the  extent  of  his  know- 
ledge of  them.  His  ideas  have  evi- 
dently been  culled  from  printed 
matter,  and  intermixed  with  crude 
suppositions  of  his  own,  and  then 
put  forth  in  a  manner  that  entitles 
him  to  little  ceremony  on  being' 
taken  notice  of,  particularly  when  he 
speaks  of  the  "mist  that  surrounds 
myself  and  others  in  the  matter  of 
snakes,"  basing  his  remarks  on  the 
detailed  and  circumstantial  evi- 
dence of  several  people  on  snakes 
swallowing  their  young,  contained 
in  my  paper  printed  on  the  2ist 
December.  The  affidavits  of  twen- 
ty people  of  the  highest  credibility 
as  to  the  fact  would  apparently  have 
no  effect  on  him.  He  is  evidently 
one  of  those  people  who  will  dis- 
pute anything,  and  contradict  any- 
one, like  a  man  I  knew  who  con- 
tradicted even  death  (for  he  was 
not  dying,  not  he)  till  death  came 
along  and  contradicted  him. 

He  says  that  the  egg-laying  spe- 
cies, like  the  American  black-snake 
(and  he  makes  no  exceptions),  are 
never  seen  in  company  with  their 
young,  which  are  never  found  in- 
side of  them  (so  far  as  he  knows), 
and  that  they  abandon  their  eggs 

*  Dated  February  aid,  1873. 


26 


SNAKES  SWALLOWING  THEIR  YOUNG.. 


when  laid,  and  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  them  to  recognize  their 
progeny,  even  if  aware  of  the  prob- 
able period  of  hatching,  and  that 
their  services  are  not  needed  to 
protect  their  offspring  or  feed  them. 
It  would  have  been  interesting  if 
he  had  told  us  how  he  learned  all 
that,  or  how  most  of  it  could  be 
ascertained  by  any  one.  Let  the 
reader  imagine  a  person  in  the 
sheerest  wantonness  doggedly 
maintaining  the  opposite  of  what 
a  hundred  men  could  testify  to, 
and  he  will  have  a  good  illustration 
of  the  action,  and  what  seems  to  be 
the  character,  of  this  one.  He 
goes  on  to  say  that  it  is  only  the 
class  producing  "  living  young,"  in- 
cluding the  English  viper  and  the 
American  rattlesnake,  to  which  at- 
taches the  idea  of  swallowing  their 
young ;  whereas  the  popular  belief 
in  America  is  that  "  snakes,"  without 
regard  to  species,  do  it,  while  there 
are  few  neighbourhoods  in  which 
one  if  not  several  people  cannot  be 
easily  found  who  can  testify  to  it  as 
a  fact,  and  very  few  indeed  from 
whom  something  about  snakes  can- 
not be  learned.  In  Rees'  Cyclopedia 
we  find  the  following  : — "  Palisot 
Beauvois  thus  relates  the  fact  we 
allude  to  :  Having  perceived  a  rat- 
tlesnake at  some  distance,  I  ap- 
proached as  gently  as  possible, 
when  on  lifting  my  hand  to  strike 
her.  she  sounded  her  rattle,  opened 
her  mouth,  and  received  into  it  five 
small  serpents,  about  the  size  of  a 
quill.  I  retreated  and  concealed 
myself,  when  the  animal,  thinking 
the  danger  at  an  end,  opened  her 
mouth  and  let  out  her  progeny. 
When  I  appeared  again,  they  im- 
mediately took  to  the  same  retreat." 
The  editor  adds :  "  He  had  heard 
this  fact  from  American  planters, 
^and  it  has  been  since  confirmed  by 
'other  travellers."  D.  says:  "If 
there  is  one  marked  peculiarity  in 
the  race  generally,  it  is  the  extreme 
slowness  with  which  they  swallow." 
Certainly,  when  they  take  in  an  ani- 


mal twice  or  perhaps  three  times  their 
own  width.  "  Is  there  any  special 
adaptation  in  the  gullet  of  the  viper 
that  enables  it  to  swallow,  on  an 
emergency,  with  lightning  rapid- 
ity ?  "  I  dare  say,  none  is  necessary 
to  enable  an  average-sized  rattle- 
snake to  swallow  young  "  about  the 
size  of  a  quill."  The  Frenchman 
doubtless  under-estimated  their  size, 
owing  to  the  distance  (short  as  it 
might  have  been)  and  the  extreme 
quickness  of  the  creatures,  that 
would  prevent  an  accurate  idea  be- 
ing formed  of  their  dimensions.  I 
am  not  aware  of  the  throat  of  a 
snake  having  been  examined  to  see 
whether  it  could  allow  an  instant 
passage  for  her  young.  There  is 
nothing  to  justify  us  in  supposing  it 
could  not,  especially  at  the  time 
nature  calls  for  it.  If  a  throat 
were  examined,  it  should  be  that 
of  a  snake  that  was  alleged  or 
supposed  to  have  swallowed  her 
progeny. 

I  pick  up  reliable  information  on 
the  subject  of  snakes  by  simply 
making  casual  inquiries  among  peo- 
ple with  whom  I  am  or  get  ac- 
quainted. One  gentleman  killed 
on  Staten  Island  an  adder,  that 
was  very  full  about  the  body,  and 
he  put  his  foot  on  her  head,  and 
with  a  stick  pressed  her  towards 
the  tail,  and  forced  twenty-one  eggs 
out  of  her.  They  had  the  ordinary 
softness  and  apparent  strength  of 
snakes'  eggs,  and  the  same  colour — 
a  creamy  or  dirty  white  —  but 
showed  a  darkish  substance  or 
body  inside,  as  seen  through  a  dull 
transparency,  doubtless  the  young 
well  on  towards  maturity ;  but  un- 
fortunately the  eggs  were  not  open- 
ed to  see  what  the  contents  were. 
This  opinion  is  strengthened  by 
the  fact  that  eggs  taken  out  of  the 
same  species  by  another  acquaint- 
ance did  not  present  the  same  ap- 
pearance, owing  doubtless  to  the 
fcetus  not  being  developed  in  them 
to  the  same  extent.  It  was  about 
the  1 5th  July,  that  the  eggs  were 


SNAKES  SWALLOWING  THEIR   YOUNG. 


pressed  out  of  the  adder,  and  about 
the  ist  August  (but  not  the  same 
year)  the  same  gentleman  saw, 
about  twenty  feet  from  him,  an- 
other adder  and  five  or  six  young 
ones  (there  might  have  been  others 
inside  of  her)  about  six  inches  long 
(so  far  as  he  could  judge),  enjoying 
themselves,  when  he  came  suddenly 
upon  them.  He  at  once  made  for 
her  to  kill  her,  when  his  hand  was 
immediately  stayed  by  the  young 
ones  entering  the  mother  in  such  a 
hurry  that  he  could  not  see  the  tail 
of  one  from  the  head  of  another, 
for  they  "  flew  "  in,  as  he  expressed 
it.  Immediately  after  they  were 
taken  in,  the  mother  made  off  and 
got  into  a  hole  near  a  fence-post, 
where  he  could  not  get  her,  to  his 
great  disappointment,  as  he  wished 
to  take  the  young  ones  out  of  her. 
Another  friend  (a  lady  this  time) 
saw  a  black  -  snake  swallow  her 
young;  and  a  very  respectable-look- 
ing and  well-off  Negro,  whom  I  met 
in  the  company  of  him  who  saw  the 
adder  swallow  her  young,  also  saw  a 
black-snake  do  the  same.  All  these, 
and  others  who  have  testified  to 
similar  facts,  are  willing  to  make 
affidavits  to  that  effect.  What  then 
become  of  D.'s  remarks  about 
snakes  swallowing  their  young  be- 
ing "  mists  "  and  "  delusions,"  and 
the  other  incoherent  ideas  in  his 
communication,  which  I  would  not 
have  noticed  but  for  its  appearing 
in  Land  and  Water,  and  also  for 
the  reason  that  it  furnishes  the  op- 
portunity for  saying  something  more 
on  the  subject. 

I  learned  the  other  day  that  the 
young  of  black  and  brown  striped 
or  garter  snakes  (and  most  likely 
other  kinds)  are  found  by  them- 
selves under  stones  and  stumps  of 
trees,  doubtless  left  there  by  the 
mother  when  she  goes  out  to  forage 
or  enjoy  herself,  relieved  of  the  care 
of  her  large  progeny.  Several  people, 
whom  I  know  intimately,  testify  to 
this  fact,  for  they  have  often  found 
them  under  stones.  On  these  be- 


ing lifted,  the  young  snakes  (often 
about  the  size  of  new-born  ones) 
are  found  neatly  stowed  away,  with 
no  room  for  the  old  one,  and  no  re- 
mains of  the  eggs  from  which  they 
were  hatched.  On  being  disturbed 
they  at  once  scatter,  if  not  imme- 
diately crushed  by  the  foot  or  other- 
wise destroyed.  There  is  no  doubt 
of  the  extremely  young  ones  being 
placed  there  by  the  mother  for  a 
special  purpose,  and  that  it  is  only 
at  times  she  takes  them  abroad  with 
her.  Excepting  for  the  purpose,  of 
hybernating,  the  only  occasions  a 
snake  has  for  a  hole  is  to  find 
shelter  from  the  weather  or 
danger;  and  she  will  be  more  solici- 
tous in  that  respect  when  she  has 
young,  like  the  adder  mentioned.* 

D.  advances  it  as  a  reason  against 
the  mother  swallowing  her  young, 
the  inconvenience  of  the  load  she 
would  have  to  carry,  which  would 
be  as  sound  an  argument  against 
her  shedding  her  skin,  or  gorging 
herself  with  a  meal  two  and  per- 
haps three  times  her  own  width, 
both  of  which  she  does  in  her  usual 
haunts.  I  have  never  met  people 
who  saw  snakes  shed  their  skins, 
but  many  who  killed  them  when 
gorged  with  a  meal.  One  I  killed 
with  a  live  frog  in  its  mouth,  when 
it  made  a  feeble  effort  to  escape  to 
cover,  pushing  its  prey  before  it, 
and  apparently  unable  and  unwil- 
ling to  relieve  itself  of  its  burden. 
A  friend  saw,  from  a  window,  at  a 
distance  of  about  twenty  feet,  an 
adder  about  thirty  inches  long  mov- 
ing slowly  towards  a  medium-sized 
toad,  which  stood  motionless,  as  if 
paralyzed,  and  facing  it  at  about 
eighteen  inches  from  it.  He  im- 
mediately sought  his  hat  and  went 
outside,  but  could  find  no  toad.  He, 
however,  killed  the  snake,  and  took 
out  of  it  a  toad,  not  completely 
dead,  and  nearly  half-way  down  its 
body.  The  snake  made  no  effort  to 
escape  or  defend  itself,  but  seemed 

*  See  note  at  page  10. 


28 


SNAKES  SWALLOWING  THEIR   YOUNG. 


torpid ;  and  the  time  that  elapsed 
could  not  have  exceeded  two  min- 
utes. As  to  the  inconvenience  to 
a  snake  from  having  swallowed 
her  young,  it  could  hardly  be 
greater  than  in  the  case  of 
White's  viper  (or  any  similar  one 
to  be  found  any  summer  in 
England),  which,  although  probably 
little  more  than  two  feet  long,  yet 
contained  in  the  abdomen  fifteen 
young  ones,  the  shortest  of  which 
was  fully  seven  inches  in  length ;  it 
making  little  difference  whether  the 
young  had  been  swallowed,  or  had 
not  yet  been  born,  according  to 
White's  theory.  And  that  disposes 
of  D.'s  assertion  that  "no  compe- 
tent naturalist  has  ever  found  young 
vipers  in  the  stomach  of  the  mo- 
ther;" which  assertion  is  as  un- 
founded as  his  other  one,  that  the 
"egg-laying  American  snakes  are 
never  found  with  young  inside  of 
them."  He  further  remarks: — 
"  Physiologists  say  there  is  no 
physical  obstacle  to  the  supposed 
habit  [of  swallowing  the  young] 
and  the  cumulative  testimony  of 
many  witnesses  would  compel  us  to 
receive  it  as  an  established  fact." 
Then  why  reject  it  for  the  odd  rea- 
son that  "  experience  warns  us,  on 
the  other  hand,  of  the  extreme 
liability  of  untrained  observers  to 
be  misled  by  preconceived  opin- 
ions," when  such  observers  have,  in 
almost  every  instance,  no  precon- 
ceived opinions  or  theories  on  the 
subject — most  of  them  not  even 
the  capacity  to  form  them — but 
narrate  merely  what  they  have  seen, 
and  in  return  find  their  observa- 
tions not  merely  doubted,  but  dis- 
credited and  disputed  by  people  full 
of  "  preconceived  opinions,"  and 
empirics  in  natural  history. 

What  reason  could  any  one  ad- 
vance against  snakes  swallowing 
their  young,  beyond  the  one  I  have 
mentioned,  viz. :  "  No  sow  on  the 
approach  of  danger  receives  her 
infantile  grunters  inside  of  her; 
therefore  no  snake  does  it  with  her 


young."  That  the  snake  receives 
her  young  inside  of  her  is  a  ques- 
tion that  should  be  settled  by  evi- 
dence, as  a  fact  is  proved  in  a  court 
of  justice;  difficulties,  suppositions 
or  theories  not  being  allowed  to 
form  part  of  the  testimony.  As  il- 
lustrating how  particular  I  am  in 
such  matters,  I  give  the  following : 
— The  gentleman  that  took  a  toad 
out  of  an  adder  came  suddenly  on 
one  of  a  different  species,  lying  in 
the  middle  of  a  road,  and  killed 
her,  mashing  her  head  and  body  so 
as  to  burst  the  latter.  He  turned, 
at  a  distance  of  about  fifteen  feet, 
to  look  at  her,  when  he  observed  a 
number  of  young  ones  leaving  her, 
some  of  which  he  killed.  As  the 
mother  was  thicker  and  much  wider 
than  ordinary,  and  bloated,  while 
her  abdomen,  after  she  was  killed, 
heaved  as  with  something  moving 
inside,  there  was  no  moral  doubt  of 
the  young  ones  having  been  inside 
of  her ;  but  as  they  were  not  seen 
to  enter  and  leave  her,  it  should,  as 
a  case  of  swallowing,  be  decided  as 
"not  proven."  The  mother  mea- 
sured about  two  feet,  and  the  young 
ones  about  five  inches. 

D.  also  maintains  the  old  theory, 
as  if  he  knew  it  to  be  a  fact,  that 
the  eggs  of  vipers  are  hatched  in- 
side, and  says  that  any  one  who 
does  not  know  it  as  a  fact  is  in  a 
"  mist."  Chambers'  Encyclopedia 
speaks  of  the  "  eggs  probably  burst- 
ing in  the  act  of  parturition." 
Either  must  be  proved  to  be  a  fact 
before  being  received  as  such ;  and 
if  neither  can  be  proved  it  must  be 
held  that  the  eggs  are  laid  and  then 
hatched.  In  my  paper  printed  on 
the  nth  January,  I  gave  an  argu- 
ment against  their  being  hatched 
inside,  and  I  should  like  to  see  one  in 
favour  of  the  theory.  And  if  it  hap- 
pens that  the  "  eggs  of  vipers  burst 
in  the  act  of  parturition,"  it  would 
also  be  interesting  to  see  an  argu- 
ment in  -favour  of  well-grown  and 
active  vipers  being  found  inside  of 
the  mother,  unless  they  entered  her 


SNAKES  SWALLOWING  THEIR  YOUNG. 


29 


by  the  mouth.  On  the  occasion 
mentioned  I  described  how  the  egg 
of  a  garter  snake  was  hatched  on  a 
table,  that  is,  how  the  snake  burst 
it  and  uncoiled  itself  out  of  it ;  and 
I  presented  to  the  doubters  of 
vipers  swallowing  their  young  the 
following  phenomena : — "  If  fifteen 
or  twenty  eggs,  lying  along  the  back 
of  a  snake,  were  hatched  inside  in 
the  way  described,  we  would  have, 
on  a  small  scale,  something  worse 
than  an  earthquake.  Or,  imagine 
the  eggs  hatched  at  birth  like  the 
bursting  of  a  shell  at  the  mouth  of 
a  gun,  or  sometime  after  leaving  it, 
and  returning  to  the  gun,  without 
being  taken  into  it,  and  we  would 
have  the  doctrine  of  anti-swallow- 
ers  well  illustrated."  Chambers  says 
that  "the  young  are  produced  in 
the  early  part  of  the  summer,  from 
twelve  to  twenty  or  more  at  a 
birth;"  while  White  of  Selborne 
testified  that  eggs  having  no  trace 
of  fcetus  in  them  were  taken  out  of 
one  about  the  27th  May,  and  young 
ones  out  of  another  on  the  4th 
August.  If  both  are  right,  and  the 
propagation  of  vipers  is  uniform  as 
to  time,  with  no  second  brood,  and 
if  the  seasons  were  the  same,  we 
could  conclude  that  the  eggs  come 
rapidly  to  maturity ;  and  that 
White's  vipers  (upwards  of  seven 
inches  long)  were  perhaps  six  weeks 
old  when  forcibly  taken  out  of  the 
mother.  I  lay  it  down  as  an  axiom 
that  we  must  hold  that  all  snakes 
swallow  their  young,  till  the  oppo- 
site can  be  proved  of  any  particular 
species  of  them. 

I  may  add  that  the  United  States 
are  a  fine  field  for  the  study  of 
snakes,  as  they  are  still  to  be  found 
close  up  to  even  large  cities  like 
New  York.  They  were  and  are 
yet  numerous  around  Hoboken,  op- 
•  posite,  in  the  State  of  New  Jersey. 
"  Snake  Hill,"  the  site  of  the  county 
poor-house,  got  its  name  from  hav- 
ing been  a  great  resort  of  many  kinds 
of  them.  The  snakes  of  a  harm- 
less kind  that  annoy  the  American 


housewife  the  most,  in  some  places, 
are  the  black  and  milk  species. 
The  first  will  gobble  up  the  eggs  of 
hens  that  lay,  or  "  steal  their  nests," 
in  the  woods,  or  the  chickens  so 
hatched  that  become  wild  after 
some  time,  requiring  trouble  to  re- 
claim them,  like  kittens  born  in  a 
stable  or  where  they  cannot  be  seen 
and  handled.  The  other  snake  is 
said  to  steal  into  the  premises  and 
drink  the  milk ;  hence  its  name. 
Snakes  seem  loth  to  go  into  winter 
quarters,  and  apparently  resort  to 
expedients  to  delay  it.  On  the  rail- 
road, close  up  to  the  petroleum  dock 
at  Weehawken,  near  where  Burr 
shot  Hamilton,  they  have  been 
found  lying  along  the  rails  and 
sometimes  across  them,  for  the  heat 
of  the  sun  concentrated  on  the  iron, 
when  the  train  would  come  quickly 
along  and  cut  in  two  those  lying 
across  the  rails  in  a  partly  lethargic 
state.  As  the  season  approaches 
its  close  they  are  easily  killed  in 
the  woods.  Four  men,  one  of  whom 
I  am  acquainted  with,  set  out  one 
day  on  a  nutting  expedition  in  the 
neighbourhood,  but  not  succeeding 
in  that,  turned  it  into  snake-hunt- 
ing. In  a  short  time  they  killed 
thirty-six,  comprising  black  and 
garter  snakes,  and  another  species 
the  name  of  which  they  did  not 
know.  They  found  them  all  bask- 
ing on  the  warmest  spots,  and  more 
or  less  near  each  other  as  regards 
species.  A  snake's  winter  den  is 
often  discovered  by  a  straggler  going 
late  to  it.  On  one  occasion  a  den, 
under  the  root  of  a  tree,  was  found 
in  this  way.  By  the  count  it  con- 
tained seventy  snakes,  torpid  and 
"  lumped  up  "  together,  in  about 
the  following  proportions  :  black, 
4;  adder,  2  ;  and  garter,  i.  Another 
den  contained  about  thirty*  but 
mostly  adders.  Sometimes  a  snake 
is  overtaken  by  the  winter  and 
frozen  in  the  woods.  A  son  of  the 
Negro  I  have  mentioned,  when 
bringing  "  brush  "  into  the  house 
for  kindling  or  "  brightening  "  fires, 


SNAKES  CHARMING  BIRDS. 


included  in  the  lot  a  fine  piece,  a  lit- 
tle like  a  black  walking-stick  ;  and 
very  soon  thereafter  his  mother  was 
like  to  go  into  convulsions  owing  to 
a  snake  being  in  the  house  and 


acting  like  ^Psop's  viper,  which 
caused  the  husband  great  surprise 
before  he  managed  to  see  how  it 
had  got  there  at  that  time  of  the 
year. 


SNAKES  CHARMING  BIRDS* 


I  HAVE  frequently  noticed  para- 
graphs in  American  newspapers 
on  snakes  charming  birds,  but  I 
never  witnessed  the  phenomenon, 
nor  incidentally  met  one  who  had, 
perhaps  from  the  subject  of  snakes 
not  being  alluded  to,  till  lately, 
when  the  fact  came  up  on  that  ques- 
tion being  discussed.  One  of  the 
parties  is  an  acquaintance  of  sixteen 
years'  standing,  and  the  other  the 
father  of  another,  both  thoroughly 
reliable,  and  unknown  to  each 
other. 

The  first,  when  "  gunning "  in 
the  woods,  about  the  middle  of 
September,  had  his  attention  arrest- 
ed by  a  bird,  evidently  in  great  dis- 
tress, chirping  and  hovering  close 
to  the  top  of  a  bush  nearly  nine 
feet  high,  with  a  clear  stem  of  from 
three  to  four  feet.  It  seemed  to  be 
attracted  by  some  object,  which 
turned  out  to  be  a  snake,  whose 
head  protruded  at  times  from 
among  the  leaves,  and  was  within 
twelve  or  fifteen  inches  of  the  bird, 
which  kept  gradually  but  steadily 
approaching  it,  when  the  snake  was 
shot,  and  the  bird  flew  away.  The 
other  gentleman,  when  passing,  in 
June,  along  a  road  having  an 
abruptly-falling  wooded  slope  at 
the  side  of  it,  noticed,  on  a  little 
lower  level  than  himself,  a  bird 
pretty  well  out  on  a  branch  of  a 
tree  (having  a  clear  stem  of  about 
eight  feet,  and  about  ten  inches  in 
diameter),  chirping  and  fluttering, 


*  Dated  April  2d,  1873  ;   printed   May 
3d- 


and  moving  from  side  to  side ;  and 
facing  it,  on  the  same  branch,  to- 
wards the  trunk,  at  about  twenty 
inches  from  it,  was  a  snake,  moving 
its  head  in  a  similar  way.  On  a 
piece  of  wood  being  thrown  at 
them,  the  snake  came  down  the  tree, 
and  the  bird  flew  off. 

In  both  instances  the  snakes  were 
of  the  black  species,  about  four 
feet  long,  and  the  intended  prey 
catbirds  (about  the  size  of  an 
English  thrush),  so  called  from 
their  cry  somewhat  resembling  that 
of  a  cat.  The  impulse  one  has  on 
meeting  a  snake  is  to  avoid  it  or 
kill  it.  But  in  a  case  like  the  pres- 
ent, a  naturalist  would  have  "  be- 
come a  party  to  the  suit,"  by  quiet- 
ly approaching  as  near  as  possible 
and  patiently  seeing  the  thing 
through,  and  then  killing  the  snake. 
And  that  could  have  been  easily 
done,  for  the  two  said  that  the 
birds  and  snakes  were  so  engrossed 
as  to  seem  unconscious  of  their  pres- 
ence, and  did  not  move  till  actual- 
ly disturbed.  The  first  was  within 
about  ten  feet  and  the  other  about 
twenty  feet  of  the  scene,  and  paused 
about  two  minutes  before  they 
realised  what  was  passing  before 
them.  The  circumstance  of  the 
snakes  and  birds  being  of  the  same 
species  respectively,  should  enable 
us  to  judge  of  part  of  the  phenom- 
enon by  comparison.  In  the  first 
case  there  was  no  nest  on  the  tree 
to  attract  the  bird  to  it,  and  most 
likely  none  in  the  second  ;  and  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  the  birds  were 


MR.  BUCK  LAND  OiV  ENGLTSH  SNAKES. 


on  the  trees  when  the  snakes 
climbed  up  to  them  and  began  their 
charming,  the  various  stages  of 
which  are  unfortunately  left  to  the 
imagination.  Neither  gentleman 
could  see  the  "countenance  "  of  the 
reptile,  which  doubtless  presented 
to  its  victim  a  yawning  abyss  that 
threw  out  forked  lightning,  and  had 
a  glowing  coal  on  each  side  of  it, 
sufficient  to  paralyse  any  simple 
bird.  Very  probably  the  snakes  on 
climbing  the  trees  had  first  amused 
the  birds  by  their  serpentine  move- 
ments, and  gradually  magnetised 
them,  like  the  one  on  the  outer 
part  of  the  branch,  till,  perhaps, 
making  a  premature  effort  to  seize 
its  prey,  it  drove  it  off  the  tree  in 
the  other  case,  which  did  not  break 
the  spell,  for  the  bird  most  probably 
returned  to  its  charmer,  and  if  left 
alone  would  very  soon  have  drop- 
ped into  its  mouth.  The  shot  and 
the  throwing  of  the  piece  of  wood, 
however,  completely  broke  the  en- 
chantment. 

The  ~  general  nature  of  such  a 
phenomenon,  doubtless,  somewhat 
resembles  that  of  a  timid  person 
suddenly  encountering  a  large  and 
ferocious  beast  from  which  there  is 
no  escape,  and  rushing  towards  it 
in  the  frenzy  of  the  moment,  after 
the  nature  of  a  nightmare.  This 


characteristic  of  the  snake  catching 
its  prey  is  doubtless  the  most 
wonderful  one  to  be  found  within 
the  range  of  natural  history,  and  il- 
lustrates that  she  is,  in  the  language 
of  the  Scriptures,"  more  subtile  than 
any  beast  of  the  field ;"  and  is  a 
proof,  besides  that  of  her  peculiar 
way  of  taking  care  of  her  young, 
that  she  has  received  from  the 
Creator  a  large  amount  of  wisdom 
and  understanding.  I  think  I  have 
seen  notices  of  her  also  charming 
rabbits,  squirrels,  and  other  animals 
that  she  could  not  easily  seize  in  the 
ordinary  way ;  and  that  is  not  un- 
likely to  be  the  case  with  at  least 
partly-grown  animals.  She  has  no 
occasion,  however,  to  "  cast  her 
glamour  "  over  the  frog,  for  she  can 
easily  catch  it,  giving  occasion  to  a 
great  noise  on  the  part  of  the  vic- 
tim, which  attracts  people  acquaint- 
ed with  her  peculiarities  in  that  re- 
spect, and  leads  to  her  destruction, 
although  the  noise  of  the  frog 
ceases  as  it  resigns  itself  to  its  fate. 
The  snake  is  a  dainty  creature  in 
regard  to  her  feeding,  for  she  must 
catch  what  she  eats ;  and  so  particu- 
lar is  she  about  the  freshness  of  her 
food  that  she  swallows  it  alive,  ex- 
cept in  the  case  of  the  constrictor, 
which  first  crushes  it  in  her  folds 
and  then  swallows  it. 


MR.  BUCK  LAND  ON  ENGLISH  SNAKES* 


IN  the  first  series  of  Mr.  Buck- 
land's  Curiosities  of  Natural 
History,  page  229,  New  York 
edition  of  1864,  I  find  the  follow- 
ing : — "  However,  though  bats  don't 
lay  eggs,  snakes  do.  They  are  gen- 
erally deposited  in  a  long  string 
connected  together  by  a  sort  of  vis- 
cous matter.  I  have  seen  as  many 
as  thirty  in  one  string.  The  mother 
generally  deposits  them  in  a  dung- 
hill or  heap  of  decaying  vegetable 


matter,  and  gives  herself  no  more 
concern  about  them."  It  would  be 
interesting  to  know  how  Mr.  Buck- 
land  arrived  at  that  conclusion,  that 
is,  how  he  knew  that  the  mother 
"  gave  herself  no  more  concern 
about  them,"  but  left  the  young  to 
come  into  the  world  and  take  care 
of  themselves  in  the  best  way  they 

*  Dated  May  2.8th,  1873  ;  printed  June 
I4th. 


MR.  BUCK  LAND  ON  ENGLISH  SNAKES. 


could.  Has  the  common  English 
snake,  while  in  a  state  of  nature, 
never  been  seen  with  her  young? 
Or  has  no  one  had  one  which  had  a 
progeny  when  in  captivity,  to  know 
how  the  young  are  hatched,  and 
whether  the  mother  shows  no  con- 
cern in  regard  to  them  ?  It  is  possi- 
ble that  evidence  on  these  points 
cannot  be  found  in  either  of  these 
ways,  but  it  would  not  on  that  ac- 
count follow  that  the  mother's 
labour  was  only  to  lay  the  eggs  and 
cover  them  up.  Mr.  B.  says  she 
deposits  the  eggs  in  "  a  dunghill  or 
heap  of  decaying  vegetable  matter," 
without  saying  how  far  from  the  sur- 
face, and  how  covered  up.  This 
snake,  I  presume,  is  not,  and  can- 
not be,  either  a  digger  or  scraper, 
like  the  turtle  when  she  deposits  her 
eggs  in  the  sand,  or  when  she  hy- 
bernates ;  which  peculiarity  is  also 
shown  by  the  young  as  they  leave 
the  eggs.  How,  then,  do  the  young 
snakes  emerge  from  the  stuff  that 
surrounds,  and,  doubtless,  covers 
them?  According  to  the  Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica,  crocodiles  "  are 
oviparous,  and  bury  their  eggs  in  the 
sand,  and  the  female  remains  in  the 
vicinity  to  dig  them  up  on  the  day 
that  the  young  ones  break  the 
shell;"  and  of  the  St.  Domingo 
crocodile  it  says  : — "  At  the  time  of 
the  escape  of  the  young,  the  female 
comes  to  scrape  away  the  earth  and 
let  them  out.  She  conducts,  de- 
fends, and  feeds  them  by  disgorg- 
ing her  own  food  for  about  three 
months."  And,  according  to  Audu- 
bon,  the  female  alligator  watches 
near  the  spot  where  her  eggs  are 
deposited,  covered  with  rubbish  and 
mud,  and  leads  the  young  to  the 
lake.  In  the  propagation  of  fish 
we  can  easily  understand  why  the 
mother  leaves  the  eggs  to  their  fate ; 
and  the  same  may  be  said  in  regard 
to  some  insects  and  the  frog  family, 
on  account  of  the  various  stages  of 
development  through  which  they 
pass,  and  also  for  the  reason  of  the 
immense  number  of  eggs  laid,  which 


would  prevent  the  mother  taking 
care  of  them  all.  But  the  English 
snake,  large  as  her  progeny  some- 
times is,  is  doubtless  perfectly  able 
to  act  the  part  of  a  mother  to  them, 
like  the  adder  and  the  American 
snakes,  which  take  care  of  their 
young,  even  receiving  them  inside 
of  them.  Besides,  the  English 
snake,  like  them,  deposits  her  eggs 
in  her  habitat,  and  is  never  far  from 
them ;  and  the  natural  conclusion 
would  be,  that  she  visits  her  nest 
and  removes,  or  helps  to  remove, 
the  matter  surrounding  the  eggs,  and 
takes  the  young  under  her  care 
for  a  time,  however  short.  Does 
anyone  know,  for  certainty,  that  she 
does  not  do  so  ? 

What  Mr.  Buckland  says  of  the 
English  snake  applies  well  to  those 
in  America.  "  The  shell  of  the  egg 
is  of  a  beautiful  white  colour,  like  a 
common  hen's  egg,  and  feels  like  a 
very  soft  white  kid-glove.  If  we 
cut  open  these  eggs  just  before  they 
are  hatched,  the  young  snakes  will 
come  out  quite  lively  and  attempt 
to  escape.  I  tried  this  experiment 
last  summer."  It  is  very  unlikely 
that  American  snakes  should  take 
the  great  care  they  do  of  their 
young,  while  the  English  one  does 
nothing  further  than  lay  the  eggs. 
The  American  snakes  are  doubtless 
"  in  at  the  birth,"  and  assist  on  the 
occasion,  for  how  else  could  they 
mother  the  progeny  ?  Would  they 
likely  do  that  with  any  covey  of 
young  snakes  that  might  come  in 
their  way  ?  I  gave,  on  a  former  oc- 
casion, an  instance  of  a  man  on 
Long  Island  killing  an  old  snake 
(doubtless  the  mother)  which  kept 
hovering  about  a  nest  of  eggs  at  the 
point  of  hatching,  which  he  found 
in  a  fence  when  repairing  it. 

Mr.  Buckland  also  says : — "  I 
have  been  credibly  informed  that  a 
gentleman,  fond  of  natural  history, 
while  taking  a  ramble  on  the  coast 
of  Essex,  killed  a  viper  full  of  eggs. 
He  took  out  his  penknife  and  let 
out  a  string  of  eggs  fourteen  in 


MR.  GOSSE  ON  THE  JAMAICA  BOA. 


33 


number.  In  each  of  these  was  a 
young  adder,  perfectly  formed,  and 
enveloped  in  a  glutinous  fluid.  The 
little  creatures,  although  they  had 
never  seen  the  light  before,  raised 
themselves  up  and  evinced  an  incli- 
nation to  bite."  These  eggs  were  ap- 
parently ready,  or  nearly  ready,  to  be 
laid,  or  the  young  hatched,  although 
"  enveloped  in  a  glutinous  fluid " 
after  being  taken  out  of  the  eggs, 
having  thus  two  coverings,  as  the 
description  would  imply.  They 
differed  in  that  respect  from  those 
taken  by  White  of  Selborne  out  of 
another,  which  were  not  enveloped  in 
anything;  and  which  makes  it  remark- 
able that  he  was  not  struck  with  the 
phenomenon  of  a  "  string  of  eggs  " 
changing  into  an  "  abdomen  crowd- 
ed with  young  upwards  of  seven 
inches  in  length ;"  and  could  see 
nothing  in  it  but  that  "  some  snakes 
are  actually  born  alive,  being  hatch- 
ed within  the  body  of  the  mother." 
This  still  leaves  the  question  an 
open  one,  whether  the  eggs  of  the 
viper  are  hatched  inside  or  outside 


of  the  mother,  or  in  the  act  of  par- 
turition. Mr.  Buckland  does  not 
say  how  long  the  young  vipers  were, 
nor  the  time  of  year  found,  to  com- 
pare them  with  White's,  which  were 
taken  out  on  the  4th  August. 

The  evidence  in  regard  to  the 
hatching  of  the  turtle,  or  sea-tor- 
toise, would  seem  to  be  that  the 
mother  is  not  present  on  the  occa- 
sion, but  leaves  the  young  to  them- 
selves, although  in  Figuier's  Rep- 
tiles and  Birds  we  find  the  follow- 
ing : — "  Under  the  fostering  care  of 
their  mother  those  which  have 
escaped  the  birds  of  prey  on  their 
way  to  the  sea."  The  same  point, 
I  think,  requires  to  be  definitely 
settled  in  regard  to  river,  land  and 
mud  tortoises,  which  live,  deposit 
their  eggs,  and  hybernate  in  the 
same  locality,  as  distinguished  from 
the  sea-tortoise,  which  swims  many 
hundreds  of  miles  from  land,  and, 
so  far.  as  known,  does  not  hybernate, 
for  the  apparent  reason  that  its 
tropical  or  semi-tropical  habitat  does 
not  require  it. 


MR.  GOSSE  ON  THE  JAMAICA  BOA  SWALLOWING 
HER  YOUNG* 


MR.  GOSSE,  in  his  Natural- 
ist's Sojourn  in  Jamaica, 
1851,  page  314,  in  describing  the 
yellow  boa  in  that  island,  says  that 
it  commonly  attains  a  length  of 
eight  or  ten  feet,  and  a  diameter  of 
two  and  a  half  inches  in  the  thick- 
est part  of  the  body,  and  alludes  to 
others  of  the  lengths  of  six  and  nine 
feet  by  measure.  All  his  authori- 
ties— black  as  well  as  white — agree 
that  this  snake  lays  eggs,  and  hatches 
them  by  incubation,  which  he 
proved  by  personal  experiment. 
Six  eggs  were  brought  to  him, 
which  were  taken  out  of  a  large 
chamber,  well  lined  with  trash, 
3 


in  the  centre  of  a  low  but  wide 
heap  of  pulverised  earth,  in  which 
the  yam  tuber  is  planted,  discovered 
by  the  snake  crawling  out  of  a  hole 
in  the  side  of  it  just  wide  enough 
to  admit  her.  These  eggs  were 
"long  oval,  i-Jin.  by  -J- in.,  plump 
when  first  discovered,  but  now, 
through  exposure  to.  the  air, 
shrunken  in  at  the  sides.""  One  of 
them  he  opened,  and  found  a  snake 
in  it,  comparatively  lifeless,  owing, 
apparently,  to  the  length  of  expo- 
sure to  which  it  had  been  subjected, 

*  Dated    June   26th,.    1873,;     printed 
August  30th. 


34 


MR.  GOSSE  ON  THE  JAMAICA  BOA. 


and  about  seven  inches  long,  doubt- 
less near  its  full  length,  for  grown 
ones,  taken  alive  out  of  the  belly  of 
a  boa,  varied  from  eight  to  ten 
inches. 

Mr.  Gosse  says  : — "  The  interest- 
ing circumstance  of  the  Python 
bivitatus  incubating  its  eggs,  which 
took  place  in  the  menagerie  of  the 
Museum  of  Paris,  is  thus  shown  to 
be  characteristic  of  the  family,  the 
habit  being  common  to  the  Ameri- 
can and  Indian  species  of  the 
JBoadcz  j  for  the  fact  that  the  fcetus 
in  the  case  which  I  have  recorded 
above  was  fully  formed  and  capa- 
ble of  motion  when  extracted,  suf- 
ficiently proves  that  some  time  had 
elapsed  since  the  deposition  of  the 
eggs,  while  the  exit  of  the  boa  from 
the  nest,  which  led  to  the  discovery, 
shows  that  the  parent  was  still  ful- 
filling the  duties  of  incubation." 
"  The  generation  of  the  Boadce  is 
well  known  to  be  oviparous." 
Notwithstanding  that,  he  says : — 
"  Other  persons  have  assured  me 
that  often  on  killing  a  female  yellow 
snake  (the  boa)  they  find  the  young 
in  her  belly.  And  this  is  curiously 
confirmed  by  a  note  from  Mr.  Hill, 
who  thus  writes  me  : — 'The  Honour- 
able Thomas  James  Bernard,  mem- 
ber of  the  Council,  has  related  to 
me  a  very  curious  fact  of  the  yel- 
low snake.  Lately  his  labourers  in 
the  Pedro  mountain  district,  St. 
Ann's,  killed  a  yellow  snake  con- 
taining some  ten  or  twelve  grown 
young  ones  varying  from  eight  to 
ten  inches  in  length.  The  Negroes 
expressed  their  surprise  at  this  cir- 
cumstance, because  they  knew  that 
this  boa  produced  its  young  from 
eggs.'  "  A  phenomenon  like  this 
was  well  calculated  to  call  forth 
from  Negroes  their  usual  "  golly  " 
of  surprise,  but  it  should  have  ex- 
cited in  intelligent  observers  and 
professional  naturalists  some  other 
idea  than  that  snakes  have  a  "  local 
option "  in  bringing  forth  their 
young,  by  eggs  hatched  in  the 
ground,  or  by  incubation,  or  by 


"bearing  them  alive."  Mr.  Hill 
timidly  ventures  the  remark  :  — "  Is 
this  to  be  received  as  a  case  of 
snakes  that  retire  upon  alarm  into 
the  mouth  and  stomach  of  the 
parent?  It  is  stated  of  the  rattle- 
snake in  '  Hunter's  Memoirs  of  a 
Captivity  Among  the  North  Ameri- 
can Indians,'  that,  when  alarmed, 
the  young  ones,  which  are  general- 
ly eight  or  ten  in  number,  retreat 
into  the  mouth  of  the  parent,  and 
reappear  on  its  giving  a  contractile 
muscular  token  that  the  danger  is 
past.'  Credible  eye-witnesses  say 
the  same  of  the  European  viper. 
(See  Charlesworth's  Mag.  Nat. 
His.,  Vol.  I.,  new  series,  1837,  p. 

441-)" 

Notwithstanding  what  has  been 
said  of  the  boa  being  oviparous  and 
an  incubator,  Mr.  Gosse,  at  pages 
323  and  501,  says  that  Mr.  Hill 
describes  her  as  viviparous,  on  the 
authority  of  "  a  young  friend  studi- 
ous of  natural  history,"  who  wrote 
him  thus: — "  It  was  on  the  3rd  of 
July,  1849,  that  I  caught  the  snake 

[a   gravid  boa] 1  put 

it  into  a  box  with  a  wire  front.  .  . 
I  could  never  induce  the  snake 
to  eat,  though  I  offered  it  every- 
thing I  could  think  of;  and  it  was 
more  savage  than  most  others,  and 
bit  me  several  times,  each  bite 
drawing  blood,  like  a  severe  scratch 
from  a  cat.  It  measured  6ft.  lin. 
(its  tail  short  and  blunt),  and  io|in. 
round  the  body.  It  was  very  in- 
active, lying  all  day  in  a  corner  of 
its  cage,  or  coiling  in  graceful  folds 
about  the  perches.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  i  pth  of  October  I  was 
surprised  to  find  my  captive  had 
produced  twenty-three  young  ones ; 
they  were  all  perfectly  formed,  and 
of  much  the  same  size.  I  measured 
six  of  those  that  died  first,  and 
found  them  16  in-  long,  and  i  \  in.  in 
circumference.  The  last  of  the 
young  ones  died  on  the  24th,  and 
the  mother  on  the  28th  of  the  same 
month.  ...  I  am  anxious  to 
try  them  again,  for  I  always  sup- 


MR.  GOSSE  ON-  THE  JAMAICA  BOA. 


35 


posed  they  laid  eggs,  like  other 
snakes,  though  this  one  certainly 
brought  forth  her  young  alive. — F. 
R.  Griffith,  Cumberland  Pen,  Ja- 
maica, 8th  May,  1851." 

We  have  here  no  evidence  what- 
ever that  these  snakes  were  there 
and  then  "  brought  forth  alive." 
The  language  used  would  not 
necessarily  imply  that  this  snake 
produced  young  from  a  womb,  like 
mammals  (which  no  snake  does), 
but  merely  that  she  did  not  lay 
eggs.  If  they  were  hatched  inside, 
what  had  become  of  the  shells  of 
the  eggs?  These  could  not  have 
been  missed,  and  as  Mr.  Griffith 
says  nothing  about  them  we  must 
conclude  that  the  young  were  not 
then  born  at  all,  but  let  out  of  the 
mouth,  having  been  hatched  by  in- 
cubation and  swallowed  before  cap- 
ture, and  let  out  at  night  or  during 
the  day  when  all  was  quiet,  and 
quickly  swallowed  on  the  approach 
of  any  one,  without  being  noticed, 
till  nature  could  hold  out  no  longer, 
when  they  were  let  out  for  good, 
leading  perhaps,  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, to  the  death  of  both  mother 
and  young.  This  boa  must  have 
had  her  young  long  before  the  i9th 
of  October,  perhaps  before  the 
1 9th  of  July,  like  snakes  in 
America,  those  as  far  South  as 
Louisiana  being  hatched  not  later 
than  the  ist  of  August.  How  did 
it  happen  that  these  snakes,  pro- 
duced by  a  small  one  six  feet  one 
inch,  were  16  inches  long,  when 
others  often  taken  alive  out  of  other 
snakes  (we  will  assume  of  the  same 
length)  were  only  from  8  to  10 
inches— about  half  the  size  of  Mr. 
Griffith's  ?  And  how  did  it  happen 
that  eggs  1 1  inch  by  \  inch,  like 
those  examined  by  Mr.  Gosse, 
yielded  snakes  16  inches  by  i£ 
inch,  as  found  by  Mr.  Griffith? 
That  is,  how  could  these  be  eleven 
times  the  length  and  fully  the  width 
of  the  eggs  from  which  they  had 
just  emerged?  The  mother  was 
73  inches  long,  and  the  23  young 


ones,  each  16  inches,  would  give 
368  inches  of  snake,  which  would 
doubtless  make  the  mother  thicker 
than  ten  and  a  half  inches  round 
the  body,  in  her  most  bloated 
condition,  as  to  which  Mr.  Griffith 
says  nothing.  If  his  snake  had 
been  killed  when  captured,  the 
young  would  doubtless  have  been 
Sfound  inside  of  her,  of  about  half 
their  size  when  seen  by  him,  like 
those  taken  out  of  other  snakes 
running  at  large.  And  this  would 
have  made  the  following  remark  of 
Mr.  Gosse  unnecessary  : — "  Is  it 
possible  that  a  serpent  nominally 
oviparous  might  retain  the  eggs  * 
within  the  oviduct  until  the  birth 
of  the  young  when  circumstances 
were  not  propitious  for  their  deposi- 
tion ?"  That  at  least  is  not  proba- 
ble. It  would  certainly  be  interest- 
ing to  confine  snakes  pregnant  with 
eggs,  with  no  means  of  depositing 
them,  to  be  hatched  by  the  soil  or 
by  incubation,  and  carefully  watch 
results ;  but  it  would  be  necessary 
to  know  that  they  were  really  preg- 
nant with  eggs,  which  would  be  a 
difficult,  if  not  impossible,  matter  to 
do  ;  so  that  the  only  principle  to 
guide  the  person  making  the  ex- 
periment would  be  to  find  the  shells 
of  the  eggs  along  with  the  young 
as  they  made  their  appearance,  to 
feel  sure  that  the  mother  con- 
tained eggs  to  begin  with.  Mr. 
Gosse  is  right  when  he  says : — "  If 
there  was  no  error  in  the  observa- 
tion of  this  case,  it  must  be  con- 
sidered as  an  aberration  of  habit;" 
but  very  wrong  when  he  adds,  in 
the  appendix,  that,  "  Mr.  Hill  ob- 
tained from  his  informant  the  fol- 
lowing clear  and  interesting  details 
of  the  matter  which  render  the 
fact  [of  the  yellow  boa  being 
viviparous]  indubitable,  however 
strange,"  for,  as  I  have  said  before, 
he  presented  no  evidence  whatever 
that  the  snakes  were  born  there  at 
all. 

If  people  in   Jamaica  will  make 
experiments     they    will    doubtless 


AMERICAN  SCIENCE  CONVENTION  ON  SNAKES. 


find  that  the  yellow  boa,  like  many 
other  serpents,  is  a  "  swallower ;" 
but  they  should  bear  in  mind  that 
a  naturalist  cannot  be  too  full  and 


circumstantial,  exact  and  logical,  in 
his  information,  to  make  it  of  any 
use  in  settling  a  question  like  the 
one  under  consideration. 


AMERICAN    SNAKES.* 


PROFESSOR  G.  BROWN 
GOODE,  of  the  University  of 
Middletown,  Connecticut,  caused  a 
notice  to  appear  in  an  Agricultural 
Paper,  having  a  wide  circulation  in 
the  United  States,  asking  for  infor- 
mation on  the  subject  of  snakes 
swallowing  their  young,  f  I  have  a 
letter  from  him,  dated  "  Head- 
quarters U.  S.  Fish  Commission, 
Peak's  Island,  Portland,  Maine, 
July  2ist,  1873,"  in  which  he  says: 
— "  I  have  in  my  possession  over 
fifty  letters  from  all  parts  of  the 
United  States  giving  the  testimony 
of  persons  who  have  not  only  found 
the  young  in  the  throat  of  the 
parent,  but  have  seen  them  run  into 
her  mouth.  I  am  not  getting  up  a 
formal  discussion  of  the  subject, 
but  am  thinking  of  reading  a  short 
paper  at  the  meeting  of  the  Ameri- 
can Association,  next  month.  I 
find  that  many  of  our  naturalists 
seem  determined  not  to  believe  in 
it,  yet  I  cannot  but  think  that  the 
evidence  sustains  our  side.  May  I 
use  your  name,  if  necessary,  in 
connection  with  this  question  ? 
Professor  Sydney  J.  Smith,  of  the 


Sheffield  Scientific  School,  Yale 
College,  assures  me  that  he  has 
seen  the  act,  and  believes  with  us. 
I  will  return  your  papers  at  an 
early  date." 

It  has  often  occurred  to  me  that 
the  female  snake  must  have  two 
throats — one  for  ordinary  purposes 
and  the  other  to  give  a  passage  to 
her  young,  or  one  throat  for  a  cer- 
tain length,  leading  by  a  valve,  as 
it  were,  to  another  that  enters  the 
chamber  that  contained  the  eggs, 
and  which  doubtless  becomes  the 
receptacle  of  the  young  when 
hatched.  It  will  be  difficult  to 
find  this  passage  unless  when  it  is 
in  use,  for  it  will  become  so  con- 
tracted at  other  times  as  to  escape 
any  observation  that  is  not  very 
minutely  made.  Mr.  Goode  speaks 
of  the  young  being  found  in  the 
throat  of  the  parent,  which  is  evi- 
dently a  slip  in  a  hasty  note,  for  it 
is  in  the  body  they  take  refuge — 
apparently  in  the  chamber  that 
contained  the  eggs,  which,  as  I 
said  on  a  former  occasion,  appears 
to  be  distinct  from  the  stomach 
proper. 


AMERICAN  SCIENCE  CONVENTION  ON  SNAKES.\ 


ON  the  23d  July  I  informed  you 
that  Mr.  G.  Brown  Goode,  of 
Middletown  University,  Connecti- 
cut, had  received  many  letters  from 
different  parts  of  the  United  States, 
testifying  to  the  fact  that  snakes 


swallow  their  young.     The  follow- 
ing is  an  abstract  of  a  paper  read 

*  Dated  July  zsd,  1873. 
f  This  notice  appeared   on    February 
ist,  1873. 
%  Dated  September  zoth,  1873. 


AMERICAN  SCIENCE  CONVENTION  ON  SNAKES. 


37 


by  him  before  the  Science  Conven- 
tion at  Portland,  in  the  State  of 
Maine,  as  taken  from  the  New 
York  Tribune,  of  the  27th  of 
August : — 

"ON  THE  QUESTION  'DO  SNAKES 
SWALLOW  THEIR  YOUNG?'  BY  G. 
BROWN  GOODE,  OF  MIDDLETOWN 
UNIVERSITY,  CONN. 

"  This  paper  discussed  the  habit  ob- 
served in  certain  snakes  of  allowing 
their  young  a  temporary  refuge  in  their 
throats,  whence  they  emerge  when 
danger  is  past.  He  stated  that  the 
question  had  been  a  mooted  one  since 
the  habit  was  first  discussed  by  Gilbert 
White  in  his  '  Natural  History  of  Sel- 
borne/  published  in  1789.  Reference 
was  made  to  the  views  of  Sir  William 
Jarcline,  M.  C.  Cooke,  and  Prof.  F.  W. 
Putnam,  as  well  as  to  the  recent  discus- 
sion of  the  subject  in  The  London 
Land  and  Water. 

"  The  question  can  only  be  decided 
by  the  testimonies  of  eye-witnesses. 
Through  the  courtesy  of  the  editors  of 
The  American  Agriculturist,  a  note 
was  inserted  asking  for  observations. 
By  this  means  and  by  personal  inquiry 
the  testimony  of  96  persons  has  been 
secured.  Of  these,  56  saw  the  young 
enter  the  parent's  mouth,  in  19  cases  the 
parent  warning  them  by  a  loud  whistle. 
Two  were  considerate  enough  to  wait 
and  see  the  young  appear  when  danger 
seemed  to  be  past,  one  repairing  to  the 
same  spot  and  witnessing  the  same  act 
on  several  successive  days.  Four  saw 
the  young  rush  out  when  the  parent 
was  struck ;  18  saw  the  young  shaken 
out  by  dogs,  or  running  from  the  mouth 
of  their  dead  parent ;  29  who  saw  the 
young  enter,  killed  the  mother  and 
found  them  living  within,  while  only  13 
allowed  the  poor  parent  to  escape ;  27 
saw  the  young  living  within  the  parent, 
but  as  they  did  not  see  them  enter,  the 
testimony  is  at  least  dubious. 

"  It  may  be  objected  that  these  are  the 
testimonies  of  laymen,  untrained  and 
unaccustomed  to  observation.  The  let- 
ters are,  however,  from  a  very  intelli- 
gent class  of  farmers,  planters,  and 
business  men — intelligent  readers  of  an 
agricultural  magazine.  In  addition,  we 
have  the  testimony  of  several  gentle- 
men whose  word  would  not  be  doubted 
on  other  questions  in  zoology.  There 
were  given  the  statements  of  Prof.  S. 
J.  Smith,  of  Yale  College,  Dr.  Edward 


Palmer,  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution, 
the  Rev.  C.  L.  Loomis,  M.D.,  of  Mid- 
dletown,  Conn.,  and  others ;  and  the 
statement  of  the  editor  of  The  Zoolo- 
gist regarding  the  Scaly  Lizard  of  Eu- 
rope (Zootoca  vivipara),  which  has  a 
similar  habit. 

"  In  the  opinion  of  Profs.  Wyman  and 
Gill  and  other  physiologists,  there  is  no 
physical  reason  why  the  young  snakes 
may  not  remain  a  considerable  time  in 
the  dilatable  throat  and  stomach  of  the 
mother.  The  gastric  juice  acts  very 
feebly  upon  living  tissues,  and  it  is  al- 
most impossible  to  smother  reptiles. 
Toads  and  frogs  often  escape  unharmed 
from  the  stomachs  of  snakes.  If  the 
habit  is  not  protective,  if  the  young 
cannot  escape  from  their  hiding-place, 
this  habit  is  without  parallel ;  if  it  is 
protective,  a  similar  habit  is  seen  in 
South  American  fishes  of  the  genera 
Arius  Bagrus  and  Geophagus,  where 
the  males  carry  the  eggs  for  safety  in 
their  mouths  and  gill-openings. 

"  Since  many  important  facts  in  biol- 
ogy are  accepted  on  the  statements  of 
a  single  observer,  it  is  claimed  that 
these  testimonies  are  sufficient  to  set 
this  matter  forever  at  rest.  The  well 
attested  cases  relate  to  the  garter  snake 
and  ribbon  snake  (Eutosnia  sirtalis  and 
saurtta),  the  water- snake  (  Tropidono- 
tus  sipedon),  the  rattlesnake  (Caudisona 
horrida),  the  copperhead  and  moccasin 
(Ancistrodon  contortrix  and  piscivo- 
rus),  the  massasauga  (Crotalustergemi- 
nus),  the  English  viper  (Pelias  berus), 
and  the  mountain  black-snake  (Coluber 
Alleghaniensis).  It  is  probable  that 
the  habit  extends  through  all  the  species 
of  the  genera  represented,  as  well  as 
throughout  the  family  of  Crotalidtz.  It 
is  noteworthy  that  all  these  snakes  are 
known  to  be  ovoviviparous,while  no  well 
attested  case  occurs  among  the  truly 
oviparous,  milk  snakes  (Ophebolus), 
grass  snakes  (Liopeltis  and  Cyclophis)^ 
ground  snakes  ( ' Storeria),  or  the 
smooth  black-snakes  (Bascanion  con- 
strictor). It  yet  remains  to  be  shown 
that  the  habit  is  shared  by  egg-laying 
snakes.  Further  observations  are  much 
needed,  as  the  breeding  habits  of  more 
than  25  North  American  genera  are 
entirely  unknown. 

"  Prof.  Gill  corroborated  the  state- 
ment that  there  was  no  physical  reason 
why  the  habit  could  not  exist,  and  said 
that  he  considered  the  evidence  suffi- 
cient to  finally  decide  the  matter.  He 
repudiated  the  popular  idea  that  snakes 


AMERICAN  SCIENCE  CONVENTION  ON  SNAKES. 


are  sometimes  swallowed  by  men,  and 
that  they  live  afterward  in  the  stomach  ; 
and  he  was  glad  of  the  opportunity  of 
^denouncing  that  common  error.  One 
of  the  members  present  added  to  the 
testimony  of  the  paper  his  personal 
evidence  that  he  had  seen  '  with  his 
own  eyes '  young  snakes  entering  and 
issuing  from  the  mouth  of  an  older 
one." 

In  this  abstract  allowance  must 
"be  made  for  incorrectness  or  in- 
completeness in  reporting;  still 
I  may  make  a  few  remarks 
on  some  points  contained  in  it.  I 
said,  on  a  former  occasion,  that  a 
string  of  eggs  lying  along  the  back 
of  a  black-snake  appeared  to  be  con- 
tained in  a  roomy  chamber  distinct 
from  the  stomach  proper.  The 
young  I  took  out  of  a  garter  snake 
were  not  lying  in  a  string,  like  these 
eggs,  but  filled  up  about  the  middle 
third  of  the  body,  about  equally  dis- 
tant from  the  head  and  tail — not 
mixed  up  in  any  way  with  the  en- 
trails, but  presenting  somewhat  the 
appearance  of  a  nest  or  bag-full  of 
caterpillars  found  on  a  tree ;  if  we 
imagine  it  of  an  elongated  shape, 
and  the  larvae  lying  in  more  than  one 
length  longwise.  Both  the  black  and 
garter  snakes  are  beyond  question 
egg-laying  or  oviparous,  and  "  swal- 
lowers,"  for  their  eggs  have  been 
found  in  the  ground  in  all  stages  of 
maturity,  and  the  young  have  been 
seen  running  into  and  been  taken 
out  of  the  mother,  as  I  have  on 
more  than  one  occasion  mentioned. 
It  thus  seems  odd  to  be  told  in  the 
abstract  that  "  all  these  snakes  [in- 
cluding the  garter  one]  are  known 
to  be  ovoviviparous,  while  no  well 
attested  case  [of  swallowing]  occurs 
among  the  truly  oviparous; "and that 
"  it  yet  remains  to  be  shown  that 
the  habit  is  shared  by  egg-laying 
snakes."  There  is  some  confusion 
'  in  the  paper  itself,  or  in  the  abstract 
made  of  it,  on  that  head.  The  real 
value  of  it  is  that  it  proves  that 
"  many  kinds  of  snakes  swallow 
their  young,"  and  bears  out  what  I 
said  on  a  former  occasion : — "  I  lay 


it  down  as  an  axiom  that  we  must 
hold  that  all  snakes  swallow  their 
young  till  the  opposite  can  be 
proved  of  any  particular  species  of 
them."  *  In  this  paper  allusion  is 
made  to  the  gastric  juice  of  the 
mother.  On  the  occasion  men- 
tioned, I  said  I  was  under  the  im- 
pression that  she  must  have  two 
throats,  or  one  with  two  passages, 
one-  passage  leading  to  the  stomach 
proper,  and  the  other  to  the  cham- 
ber that  contains  the  eggs,  apparent- 
ly where  the  young  ones  take 
refuge.  We  are  also  told  that 
"  twenty-seven  [people]  saw  the 
young  living  within  the  parent,  but 
as  they  did  not  see  them  enter,  the 
testimony  [as  to  their  having  been 
swallowed]  is  at  least  dubious." 
How  could  that  be  doubted  if  the 
young  were  hatched  from  eggs  de- 
posited in  the  ground  ?  And  if  the 
species  were  viviparous,  how  could  a 
chain  of  eggs,  in  twenty-seven  in- 
stances, change  into  a  stomach  full 
of  young,  with  no  remains  of  the 
shells  of  the  eggs  from  which  they 
were  hatched,  in  the  face  of  so 
many  such  serpents  having  been 
actually  seen  to  swallow  their  young, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  uncertainty 
of  how  or  where  the  eggs  were 
hatched  ?  It  would  be  interesting  to 
know  on  what  authority  so  many 
kinds  of  snakes  are  classed  as  vivi- 
parous. If  it  is  merely  because  they 
have  been  killed  with  young  inside 
of  them,  the  evidence  would  not 
hold  good  in  the  face  of  their  swal- 
lowing their  young.  I  know  no 
way  to  determine  the  fact  but  by 
taking  the  eggs  out  of  the  snake 
and  examining  their  condition; 
and  then  there  would  be  the 
question  whether  the  eggs  are 
hatched  inside  or  outside  of  the 
mother,  or  in  the  act  of  parturition. 
As  in  mathematics  we  require  to 
know  some  things  to  demonstrate 
others,  so  in  snakes  swallowing  their 
young,  it  is  not  necessary  for  a  man 


*  See  page  29. 


CHARLES  WATERTON  AS  A  NATURALIST. 


39 


of  science,  or  common  sense,  if  he 
will  but  exercise  it,  to  see  it  done 
in  order  to  believe  it;  but  when 
ocular  testimony  is  added,  it  sets 
the  question  at  rest  beyond  all 
doubt. 


The  next  thing  to  be  considered 
is  the  anatomy  of  the  snake  im- 
mediately after  the  birth  of  her 
progeny ;  but  that  could  not  be  so 
easily  ascertained  as  that  she  swal- 
lows them.* 


CHARLES  WATERTON  AS  A  NATURALIST^ 


I. 

WHAT  Charles  Waterton  said  of 
HumboJdt  in  regard  to  orni- 
thology applied  well  to  himself  in 
the  matter  of  snakes  and  other  ani- 
mals. At  page  251,  Warne,  1871, 
he  wrote  : — "  As  for  Humboldt,  I 
cannot  think  of  submitting  to  his 

*  The  following  short  articles  appear- 
ed in  Land  and  Water,  on  the  days  re- 
spectively mentioned : 

"  THE  VIPER  AND  ITS  YOUNG. — A 
few  days  ago,  says  the  Ulverston  Mirror, 
Mr.  Edward  Swainson,  Nibthwaite,  met 
with  a  viper  on  the  eastern  side  of  Conis- 
ton  Lake,  and  killed  it.  Then,  observing 
it  to  be  of  unusual  thickness  about  the 
middle,  he  put  his  foot  upon  the  place, 
thinking  that  the  reptile  had  recently 
swallowed  a  mouse.  The  pressure 
brought  out  ten  young  vipers  from  the 
mouth  of  the  old  one.  Some  of  them 
were  about  five  inches  long,  and  some 
shorter  ;  but  all  were  alive  and  active,  as 
if  they  had  previously  seen  the  light  of 
day,  and  had  again  sought  shelter  in  the 
parent." — September  z^fh,  1873. 

"  VIPERS  SWALLOWING  THEIR  YOUNG. 
— Sir  :  I  observed  in  your  paper  of  last 
week — I  have  not  a  copy  by  me,  and  do 
not  remember  the  signature — the  state- 
ment of  a  correspondent,  that  having 
killed  a  female  viper,  he  placed  his  foot 
upon  her,  and  that  forthwith  out  of  her 
mouth  issued  a  stream  of  viperlings.  If 
they  came  out  of  the  mouth,  they  must 
have  previously  entered  it.  I  wish  to  ask 
Mr.  Frank  Buckland,  and  I  beg  for  a 
categorical  answer,  whether  he  believe 
this  story  or  not  ?  If  he  do,  he  must  re- 
cant his  often-expressed  conviction,  that 
the  fact  is  incredible  and  impossible.  If 
not,  he  must  be  prepared  to  show  that 
your  correspondent,  intentionally  or 
otherwise,  has  stated  what  is  not  true. — 
G.  R. 

"  [I  perfectly  believe  the  young  vipers 


testimony  in  matters  of  ornithology 
for  one  single  moment.  The  avo- 
cations of  this  traveller  were  of  too 
multiplied  a  nature  to  enable  him  to 
be  a  correct  practical  ornithologist." 
And  he  illustrated  what  White  of 
Selborne  said  about  naturalists 
generally  : — "  Men  that  undertake 


were  pressed  out  of  the  mouth  of  the 
mother  viper  when  our  correspondent 
put  his  foot  upon  it ;  but  it  certainly  does 
not  follow  that  these  young  vipers  had 
been  previously  swallowed  by  the  moth- 
er ;  they  had  never  been  born.  When 
the  foot  was  placed  upon  the  mother  viper 
they  were  squeezed  out  of  her  mouth.— 
F.  BUCKLAND.]" — October  $th. 

"  VIPERS  SWALLOWING  THEIR  YOUNG. 
— Sir  :  In  your  last  impression  I  begged 
for  an  explicit  answer  from  Mr.  Buck- 
land,  '  Whether  or  not  he  believed  the 
statement  made  by  a  correspondent  that, 
having  killed  a  female  viper  and  placed 
his  foot  upon  her,  out  of  her  mouth  is- 
sued a  stream  of  viperlings?'  To  this  he 
replies  that,  'The  young  vipers  were 
pressed  otit  of  the  mouth  of  the  mother 
when  your  correspondent  put  his  foot 
upon  it.'  This  is  not  exactly  the  cate- 
gorical answer  I  expected,  but  I  must 
now  ask  Mr.  Buckland  to  reconcile  this 
explanation  with  his  statement,  repeated 
in  two  or  three  numbers  of  your  paper 
last  year,  that  the  unborn  vipers  were 
proved  on  dissection  to  be  located  not  in 
the  stomach — with  which,  of  course,  the 
mouth  communicates— but  in  the  abdomi- 
nal parietes,  a  portion  of  the  creature 
entirely  distinct  and  unconnected  with 
it !  It  appears  to  me  self-evident  that 
the  young  vipers,  if  they  came  out 
of  the  mouth,  must  have  gone  in  at  the 
mouth.  They  could  not  otherwise  have 
reached  that  orifice.  The  question,  there- 
fore, again  resolves  itself  into  ono  of 
credibility. — G.  R." — October  nth. 

f  Dated  August  i6th,  1873. 


CHARLES  WATERTON  AS  A  NATURALIST. 


only  one  district  are  much  more 
likely  to  advance  natural  know- 
ledge than  those  that  grasp  at  more 
than  they  can  possibly  be  acquaint- 
ed with  "  (Edition  1833,  page  128). 
What  his  biographer  and  editor,  Mr. 
Moore,  says  of  him  is  very  far  from 
the  truth,  however  it  might  be  in  re- 
gard to  birds.  "  He  rarely  ven- 
tured upon  a  statement  which  he  had 
not  abundantly  verified,  and  his  ad- 
versaries were  careless  observers  or 
book-worms  "  (p.  129).  "In  all  his 
pryings  into  animal  ways  his  accu- 
racy was  extreme.  To  this  hour  he 
has  not  been  convicted  of  a  single 
error"  (p.  134).  Waterton  says: — 
"  Our  own  snakes  here  in  England 
are  scarcely  worth  notice  so  far  as 
their  venom  is  concerned.  One 
species,  which  I  designate  under  the 
name  of  adder,  is  a  harmless  lictle  fel- 
low. .  .  .  Our  other  snake  is  the 
well-known  viper,  armed  with  two 
small  poison-fangs"  (p.  432).  To 
show  that  these  designations  are  not 
a  slip  of  the  pen,  he  adds,  at  page 
435  : — "  We  have  no  vipers  in  this 
neighbourhood,  but  adders  are 
plentiful  within  the  park- wall,  where 
I  encourage  and  protect  them." 
This  seems  odd,  when  all  admit 
that  adders  and  vipers  are  the  same 
serpents.  He  had  more  reason  than 
he  imagined  for  writing  as  follows  : 
— "  In  taking  a  retrospective  view 
of  what  I  have  written  on  the  na- 
ture and  habits  of  snakes,  as  it  dif- 
fers widely  from  the  accounts  which 
we  have  already  received,  I  really 
hesitate  to  lay  these  notes  before 
the  public  "  (p.  437).  And  he  might 
have  "  hesitated  "  before  publish- 
ing the  following : — "  If  they  can 
show  that  I  have  deviated  from  the 
line  of  truth  in  one  single  solitary 
instance,  I  will  consent  to  be  called 
an  impostor ;  and  then  may  the 
Wanderings  be  trodden  under  foot, 
and  be  forgotten  forever  "  (p.  58). 
J  would  not  think  of  taking  him  at 
his  word,  either  in  regard  to  his 
Wanderings  or  Essays,  for  a  person 
may  prove  very  erroneous  in  his 


estimate  of  what  he  believes  to  be 
truth,  and  very  hasty  and  presumpt- 
uous in  putting  forth  for  truth  that 
which  has  no  foundation  in  fact. 
He  informs  us  that  the  "  common 
and  accepted  notion  that  snakes 
can  fascinate  animals  to  their  de- 
struction, by  a  dead-set  of  the  eye  at 
them,  is  erroneous,  and  ought  to  be 
exploded.  Snakes  in  fact  have  no 
such  power"  (p.  431).  He  repeats 
the  idea  on  another  occasion  : — 
"  The  supposed  horridly  fascinating 
power  said  to  be  possessed  by  the 
serpent,  through  the  medium  of  the 
eye,  has  no  foundation  in  truth  "  (p. 
465).  He  admits  that  this  is  a 
"  common  and  accepted  notion." 
Now,  if  anything  is  generally  be- 
lieved of  snakes  in  the  United 
States,  it  is  that  of  charming,  fasci- 
nating, magnetising  or  paralysing 
animals,  and  particularly  birds,  by 
whatever  means  it  is  done.  I  gave, 
in  Land  and  Water,  on  the  3d  of 
May  last,  the  testimony  of  two 
highly  intelligent  and  credible  peo- 
ple on  the  subject.  I  find  the  fol- 
lowing in  a  work,  published  in 
Philadelphia  and  London,  in  1823, 
titled  Manners  and  Customs  of  Seve- 
ral Indian  Tribes,  by  John  Dunn 
Hunter.  This  man  was  carried  oft 
by  the  Indians  when  very  young, 
and  left  them  when  a  young  man,  in 
consequence  of  having  betrayed 
their  intended  treachery  to  the 
Whites.  Being  naturally  of  excel- 
lent parts,  he  was  easily  educated, 
and,  being  greatly  befriended  by 
his  own  race,  published  his  me- 
moirs, which  show  truth  on  the  face 
of  every  page  of  them.  Of  the 
rattlesnake  he  says : — "  Whenever 
it  fixes  its  piercing  eyes  on  a  bird, 
squirrel,  etc.,  it  commences  and 
keeps  up  an  incessant  rattling  noise 
until  the  animal,  convulsed  by  fear, 
approaches  within  the  reach  of  its 
formidable  enemy,  and  sometimes 
into  its  very  jaws.  This,  however, 
is  not  always  the  result,  for  I  have 
repeatedly  seen  animals  thus  agi- 
tated, and  in  imminent  danger, 


CHARLES  WATER  TON  AS  A  NATURALIST. 


make  their  escape  without  any  inter- 
vention in  their  favour  except  the 
recovery  of  their  own  powers  "  (p. 
179).  The  latter  half  of  this  ac- 
count is  not  very  clear ;  perhaps 
the  appearance  of  a  third  party, 
under  certain  circumstances,  broke 
the  spell.  If  we  turn  to  Waterton  s 
Life,  page  51,  we  will  find  what  was 
apparently  an  exact  counterpart  of 
this  scene  in  an  early  stage  of  it; 
so  that  he  had  witnessed  part  of  the 
"  horridly  fascinating  power  "  with- 
out being  aware  of  it.  In  Gosse's 
Naturalists  Sojourn  in  Jamaica, 
1871,  we  have  the  following: — 
"  Sam  has  seen  a  boa  ascend  a 
mango-tree,  on  one  of  whose 
branches  a  fowl  was  perching,  and 
when  at  some  distance  from  the 
prey,  begin  to  dart  out  and  vibrate 
its  tongue,  its  eyes  fixed  on  the  fowl, 
while  it  slowly  and  uniformly  drew 
near;  the  poor  hen  all  the  time  in- 
tently watching  the  foe,  but  without 
stirring  or  crying.  Help  came 
fortuitously,  just  as  the  snake  was 
about  to  strike,  and  the  fowl  was 
rescued.  How  strange  it  is  that  in 
widely  remote  parts  of  the  world 
we  should  hear  the  same  state- 
ments. Sam  has  never  read  what 
other  observers  have  described 
about  fascination,  but  he  and  others 
affirm,  from  their  own  observation, 
that  some  such  power  is  exercised  " 
(p.  317).  Waterton  denied  this 
power  or  peculiarity  in  snakes,  al- 
though he  was  apparently  within  a 
hair-breadth  of  witnessing  it.  But 
how  did  he  know  that  they  did  not 
have  it?  Why,  by  peering  into 
their  eyes,  he  could  tell  you,  and  tell 
you  infallibly,  that  they  could  not, 
and  therefore  did  not,  have  it !  He 
gave  it  as  an  opinion  that  the  eyes 
of  snakes  are  immovable,  and  yet  in 
his  Wanderings  he  said  that  the 
?abarri  snake  k'  would  appear  to  keep 
his  zyo.  fixed  on  me,  as  though  suspi- 
cious, but  that  was  all  "  (p.  190). 
Why  could  not  an  immovable  eye 
have  a  glowing  coal  kindled  up  in- 
side of  it  ? 


Again,  Waterton  says  : — "  The 
cast-off  slough  always  appears  inside 
out  "  (p.  432).  It  would  be  inter- 
esting to  know  how  he  learned  that 
as  a  fact  in  regard  to  all  snakes  ;  or 
if  he  could  explain  how  a  snake 
could  come  out  of  its  skin,  turning 
it  "  inside  out,"  leaving  the  scales 
that  covered  its  eyes  in  the  most 
perfect  and  beautiful  condition,  and 
the  whole  skin  stretched  out,  al- 
most as  natural  as  when  the  snake 
was  inside  of  it.*  Again,  he  says  : 
— "  Properly  speaking,  all  snakes 
are  boa-constrictors  "  (p.  434)-  I 
would  ask  again,  how  did  he  learn 
that?  Did  he  see  every  kind  of 
snake  catch  and  swallow  its  prey,  to 
know  whether  it  was  a  constrictor  or 
not?  When  I  met  a  garter  snake 
with  a  frog  pretty  well  down  its 
throat,  feet  foremost,  and  appearing 
at  perfect  ease,  and  killed  it,  so  that 
the  frog  hopped  away,  like  any 
other  frog,  I  could  certainly  say 
that  that  snake  was  not  a  constrict- 
or in  any  sense  of  the  word ;  for  a* 
constrictor  crushes  its  prey  in  al- 
most a  moment  of  time,  and  then 
swallows  it.  W.  Gordon  Gumming 
says  that  he  made  a  daman,  a 
species  of  water -snake,  seven  or 
eight  feet  long,  in  India,  disgorge  a 
frog  which  was  all  swallowed  but 
the  head,  when  the  frog  disappear- 
ed among  the  weeds.  That  is 
a  very  common  occurrence  in 
America.  Waterton  says  that  the 
boa-constrictor  "  swallows  the  tor- 
toise alive,  shell  and  all"  (p.  186). 
If  he  is  right,  the  boa  is  not  always 
a  constrictor,  for  she  could  hardly 
crush  the  tortoise,  and  so  would 
"  bolt  "  it  as  it  stood.  And  it  is 
possible  that  the  snakes  that  swallow 
alive  may  constrict  when  there  is  to 
be  a  fight  for  it.  These  matters 
simply  involve  a  question  of  evi- 
dence. Surely  some  information 
could  be  procured  in  English 
collections  of  snakes,  as  to  how 
they  shed  their  skins,  and  seize  and 

*  See  note  at  page  2,2. 


CHARLES  WATERTON  AS  A  NATURALIST. 


swallow  their  prey,  while  in  captiv- 
ity, however  they  might  do  these 
while  in  a  state  of  nature. 

Waterton  says  : — "  I  have  been  in 
the  midst  of  snakes  for  many  years ; 
I  have  observed  them  on  the  ground, 
on  trees,  in  bushes,  on  bedsteads, 
and  upon  old  mouldering  walls  "  (p. 
440) ;  and  adds  very  strongly  : — 
"  I  have  seen  numberless  snakes  re- 
tire at  my  sudden  approach,  and  [in 
addition  to  that]  I  have  seen  many 
remain  quite  still  until  I  got  up 
quite  close  to  them  "  (p.  446),  after 
having,  in  almost  the  previous 
breath,  said,  "  As  for  snakes,  I  sel- 
dom saw  them "  (p.  436).  And, 
"  when  we  consider  the  immense 
extent  of  tropical  America,  and 
view  its  endless  woods,  we  are 
forced  to  admit  that  snakes  are 
comparatively  few.  I  have  seen 
more  monkeys  in  one  day  than  I 
have  found  snakes  during  my  entire 
sojourn  in  the  forests.  When  I  did 
fall  in  with  them  (and  they  were  not 
wanted  for  dissection),  whether  they 
were  poisonous  or  harmless,  I 
would  contemplate  them  for  a  few 
minutes  ere  I  proceeded"  (p.  432), 
offering  them  no  molestation.  Such 
evidence  as  Waterton's  on  the  ques- 
tion before  us  would  not  be  re- 
ceived in  any  court  of  justice,  be- 
cause he  contradicts  himself  as 
regards  the  numbers  of  his  snakes, 
and  gives  no  information  in  regard 
to  his  authorities  in  support  of  his 
assertions.  A  very  safe  conclusion 
to  draw  would  be,  that  Waterton's 
pursuit  of  snakes  was  to  procure 
specimens  to  set  up,  leading  to  some 
incidental  information  about  them, 
which  certainly  would  not  justify 
him  in  attempting,  Pope-like,  to 
speak  ex  cathedra  on  the  subject. 
On  his  third  journey  he  told  us  that 
he  collected  230  birds  and  2  large 
.serpents,  besides  a  few  other  ani- 
mals. His  editor  says  : — "  For 
every  observation  which  Waterton 
had  printed  he  had  made  at  least  a 
hundred"  (p.  134).  If  this  was 
Intended  to  apply  to  snakes,  it  would 


have  been  interesting  to  have  seen 
the  ninety-and-nine  "  observations  " 
which  he  left  in  the  wilderness  of 
his  memory.  His  information  re- 
garding snakes  resembled  an  old 
Indian's  medicine-bag — a  collection 
of  odds  and  ends  of  no  intrinsic 
value,  but  of  the  first  importance  to 
him,  to  give  him  confidence  in  his 
movements  and  to  conjure  by,  and 
which  it  would  be  sacrilege  for  any 
one  to  touch  but  himself.  And  woe 
would  have  been  to  that  "  closet 
naturalist  "  who  would  have  dared 
to  touch  his  medicine-bag  in  his  life- 
time. He  would  have  been  scalped 
at  once,  and  skinned  at  leisure  for 
his  temerity. 

II. 

Charles  Waterton  died  in  1865, 
aged  83  years.  He  spent  his  life 
in  the  study  of  natural  history, 
principally  if  not  almost  entirely  in 
ornithology,  and  the  setting  up  of 
animals,  and  particularly  birds, 
which  seem  to  have  been  the  end 
of  his  existence,  and  the  breath  of 
his  nostrils.  He  entered  upon  the 
family  estate  of  Walton  Hall,  York- 
shire, when  he  was  24  years  of 
age,  and  surrounded  part  of  it  with 
a  wall  ten  feet  high,  and  did  every- 
thing to  carry  out  his  favourite  pur- 
suit, giving  absolute  protection  to 
every  kind  of  animal,  foxes  and  rab- 
bits, I  believe,  only  excepted.  It 
would  have  argued  poorly  for  him 
if  he  had  not  become  an  adept  in 
his  special  studies,  even  if  his 
genius  for  them  had  been  of  a 
common  order;  but  he  proved  an 
unreliable  authority  outside  of  his 
sphere,  and  illustrated  the  truth  that 
if  the  mind  is  allowed  to  run  ex- 
clusively and  for  long  on  one  sub- 
ject, it  becomes  incapacitated  for 
any  other,  even  if  it  bears  a  cog- 
nate relation  to  it.  My  trouble  in 
proving  this  as  regards  Waterton,  in 
addition  to  what  has  been  consider- 
ed on  the  subject  of  snakes,  will  be 
to  select  material  from  his  Essays, 
where  it  lies  in  profusion.  Since  I 


CHARLES  WATER  TON  AS  A  NATURALIST. 


43 


have  the  privilege  of  picking  and 
choosing,  I  will  begin  with  sun- 
stroke. 

He  says  : — "  I  am  not  a  believer 
in  what  is  generally  called  sun- 
stroke, or  coup  de  soldi.  To  prove 
this,  during  several  years  I  went 
out  of  the  house  exactly  at  twelve 
o'clock,  and  stood  bareheaded 
under  the  heliscentre  ray,  in  latitude 
six  north  of  the  equator,  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour.  My  compan- 
ions were  terrified  for  the  result.  I 
assured  them  that  I  apprehended  no 
manner  of  danger"  (p.  614).  An 
intelligent  West  Indian  informs  me 
that  he  ran  the  risk  of  catching  a 
fever — a  modified  form  of  "  what  is 
generally  called  a  sunstroke."  Sun- 
stroke, however,  is  little  known  in 
the  West  Indies,  perhaps  for  the 
reason  of  the  gradual  increase  and 
steadiness  of  the  heat,  tempered  by 
breezes  and  the  peculiarity  of  the 
atmosphere,  and  not  merely  because 
the  people  expose  themselves  less 
than  in  other  places.  The  same  can 
be  said  of  New  Orleans,  as  distin- 
guished from  New  York,  where  it  is 
very  common,  there  being  a  special 
hospital  for  its  treatment,  while  the 
other  public  hospitals  receive  pa- 
tients, and  each  police  station 
(which  has  a  surgeon)  is  prepared 
to  treat  cases  temporarily.  In  New 
York,  where  the  temperature  ranges 
from  say  o  to  100,  the  disease  mani- 
fests itself  in  connection  with  a 
variety  of  circumstances,  such  as 
fatigue  and  exposure,  weakness  or 
sickness,  the  weight  of  the  clothes 
worn,  and  dissipated  habits,  par- 
ticularly among  the  foreign  popula- 
tion. Waterton's  system  was  doubt- 
less in  excellent  condition  for  a 
tropical  climate.  He  ate  moderate- 
ly, and  was  a  total  abstainer,  and  he 
had  a  thick  head  of  hair,  made 
thicker  by  frequent  cropping,  and 
very  probably  a  skull  to  correspond, 
which  he  trained  for  years  to  an  ex- 
posure, "  while  standing  at  ease,"  of 
only  fifteen  minutes,  going  out  of 
the  house  with  his  body  in  its  natural 


temperature  into  one  described  by 
himself  as  follows  : — "  There  is  sel- 
dom an  entire  day  of  calm  in  these 
forests.  The  trade-wind  generally 
sets  in  about  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning  "  (  Wanderings,  $d  ed.,  p. 
171).  "  During  the  day  the  trade- 
wind  blows  a  gentle  and  refreshing 
breeze,  which  dies  away  as  the  night 
sets  in  "  (p.  225).  In  opposition  to 
his  own  theory,  he  told  us,  in  his 
Wanderings,  of  his  having  had 
"  many  a  fit  of  sickness  brought  on 
by  exposure  to  the  noonday  sun,  etc.  " 
(p.  1 60).  Had  he  told  us  what  his 
**  terrified  companions  "  dreaded,  it 
would  doubtless  have  been  a  com- 
plete refutation  of  his  hypothesis^ 
which  he  said  was  a  proof  against 
the  existence  of  sunstroke,  or  his 
belief  in  it.  This  allusion  to  sun- 
stroke acts  as  a  key  to  at  least  one 
cell  of  his  character,  and  lets  in  day- 
light upon  it.  He  seems  to  have 
neither  believed  nor  disbelieved  in 
moonstroke. 

The  idea  of  sunstroke  was,  singu- 
larly enough,  tacked  on  to  the  ques- 
tion whether  the  pythoness  at  Lon- 
don, in  1862,  could  hatch  her  eggs. 
That,  of  course,  he  considered,  in 
his  usual  way,  a  "  granny's  idea," 
notwithstanding  that  a  pythoness 
hatched  her  eggs  at  Paris,  about  ten 
years  previously,  while  the  London 
one  failed  only  in  consequence  of 
the  eggs  having,  from  a  variety  of 
causes,  become  addled,  a  living  ser- 
pent having  been  taken  out  of  an 
egg  at  an  early  stage  of  the  incuba- 
tion. Ordinary  people  would  think 
that  all  snakes  would  hatch  their 
eggs  in  that  way,  if  they  did  not 
know  that  the  generality  of  them  do 
not;  and  that  it  would  not  be  un- 
reasonable if  some  of  them  did,  as 
an  intermediary  between  hatching 
them  in  the  soil  and  bringing  them 
far  on  towards  hatching  inside  of 
them,  and  then  giving  birth  to  them 
in  a  way  that  is  apparently  yet  to  be 
discovered.  Waterton  did  not  seem 
to  be  troubled  with  ideas -of  that 
kind ;  his  dogmas  covered  everything. 


44 


CHARLES  WATER  TON  AS  A  NATURALIST. 


If  there  is  an  animal  in  the 
United  States  that  is  known  and 
detested  for  its  peculiarities,  it  is  the 
skunk.  'Tis  in  the  mouth  of  al- 
most every  one  in  country  places, 
when  a  person  has  behaved  un- 
gratefully, abused  one's  confidence, 
done  a  mean  action,  or  been  guilty 
of  cheating.  According  to  Apple- 
tons  Cyclopcedia,  it  is  described  (and 
correctly)  as  follows, — "  Though 
weak,  timid,  and  slow  in  its  mo- 
tions, it  is  effectually  armed  against 
its  most  ferocious  enemies  by  an 
acrid  and  exceedingly  offensive 
fluid,  secreted  by  two  glands  whose 
ducts  open  near  the  anus  .  .  . 
sufficient  to  eject  the  fluid  to  a  dis- 
tance of  fourteen  feet.  ...  It 
is  a  very  cleanly  animal,  and  never 
allows  its  own  fur  to  be  soiled  with 
its  secretion.  ...  Its  flesh  is 
white  and  fat,  and,  if  properly 
skinned,  in  no  way  tainted  by  its 
secretion ;  it  is  highly  esteemed  by 
the  Indians,  and  is  eaten  by  the 
Whites  in  various  parts  of  the 
country."  Appleton  says  that  its 
secretion  has  been  successfully  em- 
ployed in  some  forms  of  asthma, 
and  for  other  medical  purposes.  Its 
grease  is  used  for  rheumatism  and 
diseases  of  the  joints.  I  have 
known  it  to  be  taken  from  a  skunk 
for  such  purposes.  Now,  turn  to 
what  Waterton  says  about  this  ani- 
mal, in  his  essay  on  the  weasel : — 
"  At  what  old  granny's  fireside  in 
the  United  States  has  the  writer  of 
this  picked  up  such  an  important 
piece  of  information?  How  comes 
the 'pole-cat  to  be  aware  that  the 
emitted  contents  of  a  gland  .  .  . 
should  be  offensive  to  all  its  pur- 
suers ?"  (p.  227.)  He  returns  to  the 
question  again,  and  says : — "  I  can- 
not refrain  from  asking  by  what 
power  of  intuition  the  pole-cat  is 
convinced  that  a  smell,  naturally 
agreeable  to  itself,  is  absolutely  in- 
tolerant to  man?"  (p.  341.)  A 
queer  question  fora  "  naturalist  "  to 
ask.  "It  now  and  then  happens 
that  we  are  led  astray  by  our  feel- 


ings when  we  pronounce  judgment 
on  the  actions  of  irrational  ani- 
mals"  (p.  341),  especially  when  we 
are  asked  to  "  reject  the  Transatlan- 
tic theory  as  a  thing  of  emptiness," 
and  agree  with  Waterton  when  he 
says  : — "  If  we  are  called  upon  for 
an  opinion  as  to  the  real  uses  of  the 
foetid  gland  in  pole-cats,  let  us  frank- 
ly own  that  we  have  it  not  in  our 
power  to  give  anything  satisfactory 
on  the  subject"  (p.  228).  He  con- 
sidered himself  an  injured  man  when 
told  he  was  not  a  "  scientific  natu- 
ralist," when,  by  his  own  confes- 
sion, he  could  not  settle  a  question 
that  any  old  Yankee  granny  can,  in 
common  with  the  cur  that  sits  on 
her  door-step.  Was  it  like  a  natu- 
ralist of  any  kind  to  dogmatize  on 
a  subject  about  which  he  apparent- 
ly knew  nothing,  and  characterize 
another's  opinion  as  a  "  granny's 
story,"  without  giving  one  of  his 
own,  or  showing  that  he  even  had 
the  capacity  to  form  one  ? 

Under  the  head  of  "  the  dog 
tribe,"  he  says  : — "  I  have  heard 
and  read  much  of  dogs  and  wolves 
hunting  in  packs,  but  believe  it  not  " 
(p.  202)  ;  and,  under  the  head  of 
"  the  food  of  animals,"  he  repeats 
the  idea  :— "  I  consider  the  stories 
about  wolves  hunting  in  packs  as 
mere  inventions  of  the  nursery  to 
keep  cross  children  quiet"  (p.  471). 
That  wolves  hunt  in  packs  all  the 
time  is  what  I  should  suppose  no 
one  will  maintain ;  but  that  they 
never,  or  do  not  often,  do  it,  would 
be  as  contrary  to  evidence  as  any- 
thing that  could  be  mentioned.  A 
question  like  that  Waterton  does 
not  pretend  to  settle  by  his  own 
knowledge,  nor  would  he  have  re- 
course to  that  of  others,  for  then  he 
would  have  become,  what  he  had  a 
peculiar  horror  for,  a  "  closet  natu- 
ralist." Said  he:  —  "Whip  me, 
you  dry  and  scientific  closet  nat- 
uralists"  (p.  127),  and  field  ones, 
too,  should  such  be  around.  "  He 
did  not  recast  the  information  pick- 
ed up  from  books  ;  he  did  not  even 


CHARLES  WATER  TON"  AS  A  NATURALIST. 


45 


retail  the  hearsay  collected  on 
the  spot  "  (p.  134).  He  trusted  to 
his  "  intuitive  perceptions,"  and 
maintained  that  wolves  hunt  singly, 
for  the  reason  that  if  they  did  it  in 
packs  they  would  quarrel  over  the 
spoil,  and,  like  the  cats  of  Kilkenny, 
destroy  each  other !  Again,  he 
says  : — "  Were  wild  dogs  to  hunt  in 
packs,  the  daily  supply  of  food 
would  not  be  sufficient  to  satisfy  the 
cravings  of  every  individual "  (p. 
203).  Now,  it  holds  to  reason  that 
if  ravenous  animals  live  on  flocks  in 
a  state  of  nature,  they  will  follow 
these  flocks,  so  that  they  can  never 
lack  food  as  long  as  the  flocks  exist ; 
nor  do  wild  flocks,  as  a  general  thing, 
appear  to  leave  their  favourite  feed- 
ing grounds  on  account  of  being 
disturbed  or  preyed  upon  by  others 
of  the  brute  creation;  and  if  they 
did,  their  enemies  would  follow 
them,  as  in  the  case  of  the  buffalo 
and  other  American  animals.  The 
main  reason  for  wolves  and  such 
animals  hunting  in  packs,  is  ap- 
parently to  combine  their  strength 
against  such  quarry  as  would  take 
perhaps  half  a  dozen  wolves  to 
master,  or  give  them  courage  or 
confidence,  or  when  their  prey  went 
in  flocks  for  protection.  It  is  un- 
necessary for  me  to  illustrate  at 
length  what  I  have  said,  by  quoting 
the  evidence  of  trustworthy  travel- 
lers, as  to  certain  animals  following 
and  killing  their  prey  in  packs ;  and 
that  more  than  one  wild  animal  can 
and  do  eat  off  the  same  carcass  at 
the  same  time;  which  would  be  a 
great  saving  in  the  economy  of  na- 
ture, for  that  particular  species, 
rather  than  each  animal  killing  its 
prey  and  leaving  much,  if  not  most, 
of  it  to  be  consumed  by  others, 
which  would  never  have  it  in  their 
power  to  partake  of  such  fare,  if 
they  had  to  acquire  it  themselves. 
In  Lewis  and  Clarke's  Expedition 
across  the  Rocky  Mountains,  we  have 
many  allusions  to  wolves  constantly 
attending  on  the  herds  of  buffalo, 
elk,  deer,  and  antelopes  ;  and  the 


following  passage  from  Hunter 
illustrates  at  a  glance  the  re- 
lation between  buffaloes  and 
wolves  ; — "  The  cows  bring  forth 
in  March  or  April.  They  are 
proverbially  attached  to  their 
young,  and  form  at  night  a  circular 
phalanx  round  them,  with  their 
horns  outward,  to  protect  them 
against  the  attacks  of  the  wolves  " 
(p.  173).  But  this  "founder  of  a 
school  "  for  naturalists,  in  his  cru- 
sade against  "  closet  naturalists," 
has  the  following  whimsical  objec- 
tion to  animals  hunting  in  packs  : — 
"  When  at  a  great  distance  from 
their  supposed  retreat,  what  master- 
dog  will  take  upon  himself  to 
organize  the  pack  ?  and  when  the 
hard  day's  hunting  is  over  how  will 
he  dispose  of  his  confederates  ? 
Are  the  females,  which  remained 
behind  on  the  hunting  morning,  in 
order  to  take  care  of  their  newly- 
whelped  pups,  supposed  to  wait  in 
anxious  expectation  that  some  gen- 
erous hound  will  return  with  a  neck 
of  goat  in  his  mouth  for  their  sup- 
port?" (p.  203.) 

As  an  instance  of  his  "  phil- 
osophy," I  may  give  what  he  says 
about  the  apes  on  the  Rock  of  Gib- 
raltar. Ordinary  people  would 
conclude  that  these  were  the  de- 
scendants of  others  that  had  escaped 
from  confinement ;  but  he  scouts 
the  idea.  "  I  believe  there  is  noth- 
ing on  record  to  show  that  this 
establishment  of  an  apish  colony 
had  ever  taken  place  "  (p.  144) ;  as 
if  that  were  likely  to  have  been 
"put  on  record,"  when  the  escape 
of  two  apes,  "  unbeknown"  to  any 
one,  could  have  done  all  the  mis- 
chief !  He  has  recourse  to  the  "por- 
tentous circumstance  "  of  Europe1 
and  Africa  being  separated  by  a 
"  tremendous  convulsion  of  na- 
ture," which  cut  off  the  apes'  retreat 
towards  the  South,  and  left  a  few  of 
them  high  and  dry  on  the  top  of 
Gibraltar  ;  the  only  place  in  Europe 
where  they  are  found,  and  where 
they  maintain  themselves  under  the 


CPIARLES  WA  TERTON  AS  A  NA  TURALIST. 


hardships  of  changes  of  tempera- 
ture, wind  and  weather,  and  the  dif- 
ficulty of  finding  food,  but  where 
they  are  secure,  undisturbed  by  any- 
one. The  mountain  in  labour  giv- 
ing birth  to  a  mouse  was  truth  when 
compared  to  the  breaking  up  of  the 
foundations  of  the  earth  being 
necessary  to  give  us  in  Europe  the 
only  wild  representatives  of  these 
"  unlucky  mimickers  of  man  !" 

I  have  not  by  any  means  exhaust- 
ed the  points  to  be  commented  on, 
for  they  are  scattered  in  profusion 
through  Waterton's  works.  I  will 
content  myself  by  presenting,  in  my 
next  and  last  paper,  a  general  sum- 
ming up  of  his  character  as  a  natu- 
ralist. 

III. 

Charles  Waterton  appeared  be- 
fore the  world  as  a  naturalist  under 
the  most  favourable  circumstances. 
He  was  the  representative  of  an 
ancient  family,  the  possessor  of  a 
romantic  estate,  and  the  owner  of 
comfortable,  if  not  ample,  means, 
and  he  could  have  well  afforded  to 
let  his  Wanderings,  which  contained 
much  interesting  and  valuable  infor- 
mation, find  their  way  gradually 
into  public  favour,  leaving  others  to 
defend  them  against  attacks  made 
on  them,  or  defending  them 
himself  in  a  dignified  way,  avoid- 
ing the  use  of  names  and  epithets. 
Instead  of  that,  he  acted  the  part  of 
a  brawler  and  bruiser,  using  lan- 
guage inconsistent  with  the  ameni- 
ties of  a  man  of  business,  or  the 
courtesies  and  instincts  of  a  gentle- 
man. If  he  had  studied  a  little  the 
natural  history  of  his  own  species 
to  any  advantage,  he  would  have 
been  satisfied  to  have  had  his  work 
abused  rather  than  not  noticed  at 
all ;  either  of  which  is  the  common 
fate  of  what  adds  to  knowledge, 
when  something  has  to  make  way 
for  it ;  and  he  would  have  presented 
it  to  the  public  in  a  manner  calcu- 
lated to  secure  its  ear  sooner  or 
later.  In  place  of  that,  he  gave  an  ex- 


ceedingly ill-arranged,  rambling  and 
wandering  account  of  his  adventures 
and  observations,  mixed  with  many 
simpering  sentimentalisms,  trifling 
egotisms,  and  pedantic  quotations, 
of  no  earthly  use  to  a  large  part  of 
his  readers ;  peculiarities  seldom 
or  never  met  with  in  a  character 
that  is  judicious  and  manly,  or  real- 
ly amiable.  With  no  sense  of  con- 
sistency, he  spoke  of  the  book  as 
having  "  little  merit,"  yet  quoted  a 
high  eulogium  passed  by  Sir  Joseph 
Banks  on  the  first  half  of  it,  the 
other  half  having  been  written  after 
his  death.  In  the  work  he  described 
what  he  called  a  nondescript,  as  re- 
gards its  habits  and  capture,  giving 
its  likeness  in  a  frontispiece;  and 
urged  his  readers  to  visit  the  scenes 
of  his  adventures  to  procure  speci- 
mens of  the  same  animal ;  all,  as  he 
afterwards  admitted,  pure  fiction,  to 
gratify  his  spite  against  the  govern- 
ment for  charging  him,  according  to 
law,  a  duty  of  twenty  per  cent,  on 
the  valuation  of  his  collection,  if  it 
was  for  private  use,  and  nothing  if 
intended  for  a  public  museum ! 
Taking  his  own  account  of  the  oc- 
currence, he  was  really  well  treated 
by  the  custom-house.  If  he  had 
landed  fifteen  years  afterwards,  and 
very  probably  at  that  time,  a  donkey 
loaded  with  diamonds,  the  only  duty 
he  would  have  had  to  pay  was 
ten  shillings  for  the  donkey !  A 
man  of  the  world  and  a  gentleman, 
knowing  from  experience  what  all 
governments  are,  and  possessed  of 
ample  means,  would  have  paid 
the  duty,  without  any  ado  be- 
yond making  it  the  occasion  of  agi- 
tating for  the  abolition  of  it  for  the 
future.  Had  he  been  a  man  occu- 
pying the  position  of  that  of  little 
better  than  a  beggar  in  the  pursuit 
of  natural  history,  he  would  have 
doubtless  received  the  entire  pub- 
lic sympathy ;  and  all  the  more  so 
had  he  told  us  how  much  the 
"  Hanoverian  Rats  "  had  devoured 
of  his  substance.  Besides  giving 
the  world  the  nondescript  as  a  sweet 


CHARLES  WATERTON  AS  A  NATURALIST. 


47 


revenge  against  tfie  Lords  of  the 
Treasury,  he  tells  us  ; — "  In  fine,  it 
is  this  ungenerous  treatment  that 
has  paralysed  my  plans  [robbed 
him  of  his  available  means,  so  that 
he  could  not  print  an  additional 
dozen  pages  of  MS.  ?]  and  caused 
me  to  give  up  the  idea  I  once  had 
of  inserting  here  the  newly-discov- 
ered mode  of  preparing  quadrupeds 
and  serpents."  When  he  found 
that  the  public  classed  other  matters 
in  his  Wanderings  with  the  nonde- 
script, there  was  no  end  to  his  scold- 
ing, and  almost  cursing,  every  one 
who  even  presumed  to  differ  from 
him.  There  was  so  little  tact  and 
sense,  self-respect  and  good-breed- 
ing manifested  at  the  outset  of  his 
public  career,  at  the  mature  age  of 
forty-three  years,  and  so  much  that 
was  capricious  and  whimsical,  that 
little  room  was  left  for  the  display  or 
development  of  that  principle  and 
judgment  which,  sooner  or  later, 
command  the  respect  or  confidence 
of  the  world. 

Any  prejudice  Waterton  may 
have  met  with  on  account  of  being 
a  Romanist  of  "  many  centuries 
standing  "  he  owed  to  himself,  for 
the  reason  that  he  proclaimed  him- 
self such  in  an  unusual  and  uncalled- 
for  manner,  and  as  having  had  his 
mind  manipulated  from  his  infancy 
by  the  Jesuits — a  set  of  men  as  of- 
fensive to  humanity  at  large,  even 
when  they  come  in  the  garb  of 
"  angels  of  light,"  as  obnoxious 
animals  are  to  a  barn-yard,  where 
everything  having  a  horn  in  its 
head  will  stick  it  into  them.  Not- 
withstanding the  eulogium  he  pass- 
ed upon  them,  as  the  embodiment  of 
the  humane  and  Godlike  virtues,  he 
could  not  have  objected  to  his  own 
language  being  applied  to  them 
when  he  wrote  : — "  It  is  said,  if  you 
give  a  dog  a  bad  name,  whether  in- 
nocent or  guilty,  he  never  loses  it. 
It  sticks  close  to  him  wherever  he 
goes.  He  has  many  a  kick  and 
many  a  blow  to  bear  on  account  of 
it."  By  his  own  admission,  con- 


stantly gloried  in,  he  was  a  black 
Romanist,  dyed  in  the  wool,  and 
doubtless  a  lay  Jesuit,  who  believed 
in  everything  of  the  system  as  ab- 
solutely as  the  most  ignorant  and 
blinded  devotee,  native  or  foreign ; 
and  whose  particular  aversion  was 
for  the  "  Hanoverian  Rats,"  with  a 
"  God  rest  the  soul  of  Charles 
Stuart."  As  a  naturalist,  he  seems 
to  have  been  testy  and  easily 
"  riled,"  as  well  as  spiteful  and  re- 
vengeful, self-engrossed  and  illogi- 
cal, and  in  the  highest  degree  prag- 
matical and  dogmatical,  presumpt- 
uous and  arrogant,  in  matters  with 
which  he  was  evidently  little  con- 
versant. He  says,  in  writing  to 
George  Ord,  of  Philadelphia,  when 
seventy-three  years  old  :  — "  We 
bird-stuffers  are  a  very  low  set,  very 
jealous  of  each  other,  and  excessive- 
ly prone  to  anger  and  defamation  ;" 
which,  like  most  of  his  opinions, 
must  be  received  with  a  good  deal 
of  question  or  qualification.  He 
was  constantly  abusing  what  he 
called  "  closet  naturalists,"  who  drew 
their  information  from  books,  as  an 
illiterate  man  abuses  newspapers, 
and  sneered  at  ^  market  naturalists  " 
as  if  they  were  kitchen  gardeners ; 
while  in  many  of  his  lucubrations  he 
sunk  below  both,  drawing  his  infor- 
mation, not  from  books  or  the  con- 
versations of  observers,  but  from  his 
imagination,  or  the  "  depth  of  his 
consciousness  " — occult  attributes, 
very  difficult  of  defining  or  depend- 
ing on.  Witness,  for  example,  his 
singular  remarks  and  crude  specu- 
lations about  snakes,  skunks,  wolves, 
dogs,  the  food  of  animals,  and  sun- 
stroke.* 

*  There  runs  through  Waterloo's  Works 
a  marked  aversion  to  what  he  called  a 
"closet  naturalist,"  whom  he  seems  to 
have  consideied  as  a  natural  enemy  ;  but 
he  did  not  define  exactly  what  he  meant 
by  the  term.  Taking  one  view  of  the 
question,  it  could  doubtless  be  said  that 
he  would  have  called  him  a  closet  natu- 
ralist who  quoted  himself  against  him- 
self, in  any  variation  or  vagary  he  might 
have  fallen  into  in  his  writings. 


48 


CHARLES  WATER  TON  AS  A  NATURALIST. 


Charles  Waterton,  however,  seems 
to  have  been  a  distinguished  man  in 
his  way,  that  is,  as  a  taxidermist  or 
setter-up  of  animals,  and  ornitholo- 
gist, or  in  anything  of  that  nature  that 
he  actually  saw  and  described ;  but 
very  unreliable  in  questions  of  philo- 
sophical inquiry,  or  that  required 
judgment,  in  matters  relating  to  nat- 
ural history.  In  short,  he  seems  to 
have  been  "  all  sight  and  no  scent," 
with  a  blessed  ignorance  of  where  the 
one  ends  and  the  other  begins.  His 
writings  generally  are  poorly  put  to- 
gether, and  sometimes  sadly  mixed 
with  extraneous  matter,  showing  the 
want  of  a  well-trained  and  scientific 
mind;  notwithstanding  which,  his 
works  and  life,  marred  as  they  are 
by  personalities,  however  much  pro- 
voked, and  especially  his  establish- 
ment at  Walton  Hall,  will  ensure  his 
being  well  remembered  by  the  lovers 
of  natural  history  everywhere.  He 
says : — "  Most  men  have  some  fa- 
vourite pursuit,  some  well-trained 
hobby,  which  they  have  ridden  from 
the  days  of  their  youth.  Mine  is  orni- 
thology, and  when  the  vexations  of 
the  world  have  broken  in  upon  me, 
I  mount  it  and  go  away  for  an  hour 
or  two  amongst  the  birds  of  the 
valley ;  and  I  seldom  fail  to  return 
with  better  feelings  than  when  I  first 
set  out"  (p.  496).  This,  and  what 
relates  to  it,  and  matters  connected 
with  natural  history  in  general,  seem 
to  have  made  up  his  character,  for 
nothing  can  be  drawn  from  his  writ- 
ings to  indicate  that  anything  else  of 
any  importance,  beyond  his  religion, 
attracted  him,  except  some  of  the 
Latin  poets,  whom  he  quoted  to  il- 
lustrate his  subjects  and  ideas.  Per- 
haps the  influence  of  the  Jesuits  is 
here  observable,  for  the  end  of  their 
teaching  is  to  stunt  or  emasculate 
the  mind  in  its  higher  faculties,  and 
hold  it  in  subjection,  limiting  its 
functions  in  that  respect  to  one  idea, 
viz  :  THE  CHURCH,*  beyond  whose 

*  Waterton,  in  his  Wanderings,  com- 
plains of  Southey,  in  his  History  of  Brazil, 
when  referring  to  the  Jesuits,  making  use 


teachings  all  is  dangerous  and  impi- 
ous speculation. 

His  editor  is  anything  but  free 
from  the  bad  taste  of  calling  names 
and  indulging  in  improper  language. 
He  should  have  apologised  for  Wa- 
terton in  that  respect,  rather  than 
imitated  him,  after  the  time  that  had 
elapsed.  He  says : — "  In  fact,  Water- 
ton  flogged  two  generations  of 
quacks,  and  it  would  be  well  if  a 
second  Waterton  arose  with  a  new 
rod  and  a  larger  "  (p.  130) ;  never  im- 
agining, when  penning  these  words, 
that  he  might  have  been  putting  one 
in  pickle,  to  be  laid  over  the  back 
of  himself  as  well  as  his  friend.  He 
seems  to  have  damned  him  not  with 
faint,  but  with  fulsome  praise,  calcu- 
lated to  make  him  enemies  rather 
than  friends.  He  has  no  right  to 
characterize  him  as  a  man  of  "  acute 
intellect,"  or  a  "  profound  natural- 
ist," or  that  all  "  his  observations  are 
so  accurate  that  they  delight  the 
profoundest  philosopher,"  for  the 
very  opposite  can  be  said  of  many 
of  them.  Waterton  says : — "  I  cannot 
understand  how  he  can  make  me,  at 
one  and  the  same  time,  a  very  ob- 
serving and  an  unscientific  naturalist  " 


of  the  phrase,  "Whose  zeal  the  most  fa- 
natical was  directed  by  the  coolest  policy," 
and  adds:  "It  will  puzzle  many  a  clear 
brain  to  comprehend  how  it  is  possible  in 
the  nature  of  things,  that  zeal  the  most 
fanatical,  should  be  directed  by  the  coolest 
policy"  If  Waterton  was  sincere  in  what 
he  said,  it  would  follow  that  he  would 
have  been  plucked  had  he  tried  to  take 
the  degree  of  "  First  Wriggler "  in  the 
Order. 

He  mentions  with  great  gusto,  how  he 
got  the  better,  in  a  Jesuitical  way,  of  the 
prefect  at  Stonyhurst,  who  had  hunted 
him  for  nearly  half  an  hour  in  grounds 
forbidden  to  the  boys,  and  "cornered" 
him.  As  a  last  resource,  he  got  the  old 
brewer  to  cover  him  with  pigs'  litter,  just 
as  the  official  bounced  in  by  the  gate 
through  which  he  had  entered.  "  Have 
you  seen  Charles  Waterton  ?"  said  he,  quite 
out  of  breath.  And  his  "  trusty  guardian 
answered,  in  a  tone  of  voice  which  would 
have  deceived  anybody,  '  Sir,  I  have  not 
spoken  a  word  to  Charles  Waterton  theso 
three  days,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  '  " 
(Warnetp.  19). 


ROMANISM. 


(p-  55?)-  This  represented  his  men- 
tal peculiarity.  As  a  general  illus- 
tration of  such  a  distinction,  it  may 
be  said  that  a  person  may  make  all 
observations  possible  on  a  complica- 
ted subject,  and  yet  be  devoid  of  the 
capacity  or  mental  training  so  to 
weave  them  into  a  theory  or  system, 
that  will  immediately,  or  at  any  time, 
meet  with  acceptance.  Waterton 
was  not  a  "  man  of  science  "  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word  (whatever 
he  might  have  been  as  a  taxidermist 
and  ornithologist),  so  that  his  editor's 
words  are  out  of  place  when  he  says : 
"  As  a  man  of  science,  he  has  never, 
in  my  opinion,  obtained  his  rightful 
place  "(p.  133)?  meaning  by  that,  that 
he  was  a  "  naturalist  the  first  of  his 
own  time,  and  in  no  age  surpassed  " 
(p.  i);  and  for  other  reasons  than  that 
"  he  provoked  many  enemies  by  his 
advocacy  of  truth  and  exposure  of 
error  "(p.  133).  "Few  things  are 


49 

easier  than  to  feign  a  hypothesis  " 
(P-  5?)»  but  few  more  difficult  than 
to  make  one  good.  Waterton  spoke 
of  "  Selborne's  immortal  natural- 
ist," whom  his  editor  alludes  to  as 
one  of  his  few  favourite  English  au- 
thors. It  would  have  been  well  had 
he  studied  him  to  more  purpose 
than  he  did,  in  two  respects  at  least ; 
that  in  every  branch  of  natural  his-v 
tory,  facts  are  everything,  and  theo- 
ries and  difficulties  nothing,  and  that 
among  naturalists  of  the  right  stock, 
opprobrious  names  and  abusive  epi- 
thets should  find  no  place.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  that  for  the  future,  no  one 
will  maintain  that  Waterton  "  rarely 
ventured  upon  a  statement  which  he 
had  not  abundantly  verified,"  or 
that  "  in  all  his  pryings  into  animal 
ways,  his  accuracy  was  extreme," 
and,  above  all,  that  "  to  this  hour 
he  has  not  been  convicted  of  a 
single  error." 


ROMANISM. 


WATERTON  literally  dosed  his 
readers  with  his  Romanism, 
which  makes  it  a  subject  of  legiti- 
mate comment  here.  Let  almost 
any  religion  of  purely  human  origin, 
with  a  regular  priesthood,  become 
established  and  acquire  a  history 
and  traditions,  and  hardly  any  rea- 
sonable means  can  extirpate  it,  al- 
though it  may  disappear  when  its 
followers,  uninfluenced  from  with- 
out, quarrel  among  themselves,  and, 
as  in  the  case  of  Mahometanism, 
move  like  an  avalanche,  carryingwith 
it  every  object  in  its  course.  The 
-•less  reason  a  devotee  has  for  believ- 
ing in  the  origin  and  truth  of  such 
a  religion,  the  greater  seems  the 
difficulty  in  getting  him  to  renounce 
it,  particularly  among  Asiatic  races, 
and  as  was  illustrated  in  the  fall  of 


Paganism  in  Europe.  That  nat- 
ural adhesion  becomes  amazingly 
strengthened  in  the  case  of  Roman- 
ism, the  most  subtle  and  successful, 
the  best  organized,  and  apparently 
the  most  permanent  of  religions  of 
corrupt  human  nature,  based  on 
certain  scriptural  truths,  or  some  of 
their  aspects,  and  innumerable  su- 
perstitions, that  took  possession  of 
an  originally  divine  building,  or  the 
framework  of  it,  and  turned  it  into 
another  structure,  and  applied  it, 
with  its  traditions  and  associations, 
for  the  most  part,  to  other  purposes 
and  towards  other  objects  than  the 
original  ones.  By  systematically 
and  perseveringly  stimulating  and 
manipulating  the  religious  instincts 
and  faculties  from  their  very  birth, 
it  has  taken  a  transcendent  hold  on 


ROMANISM. 


the  imagination  -and  obedience  of 
its  followers,  notwithstanding  the 
clouds  of  witnesses — moral  and  in- 
tellectual, historical  and  biblical — 
that  surround  it,  and  question,  dis- 
pute and  disprove  all  its  peculiar 
dogmas.  It  is  then  no  wonder  that 
Romanists  should  remain  Roman- 
ists (for  a  religion  of  some  kind, 
coming  to  them  from  without,  they 
must  have)  when  men  of  the  great- 
est candour,  diligence,  and  capacity 
have  had  to  undergo  a  struggle 
somewhat  like  a  convulsion  in  na- 
ture, before  they  could  break  the 
spell  that  bound  them,  and  a  similar 
struggle  in  acquiring  a  new  faith, 
both  taking  place  at  the  same  time, 
and  frequently  leaving  the  person  a 
roaring  infidel.  Little  chance,  there- 
fore, is  there  of  such  impulsive  and 
illogical,  and,  in  some  respects,  weak- 
minded  men  (to  say  nothing  of  wo- 
men) like  Waterton,  by  their  own 
efforts  or  the  assistance  of  others, 
being  apt  to  renounce  the  faith  in 
which  they  were  carefully  reared 
before  their  earliest  recollection, 
under  the  impressive  influence  of  the 
absolute  submission  of  their  parents, 
and  the  ghostly  nature  of  the  priests' 
instruction  and  ceremonial,  and  em- 
brace another  which  holds  as  an 
abomination  that  which  they  for- 
merly worshipped,  in  the  face  of  the 
wonderfully  efficient  means  used  by 
the  priests  in  looking  after  their 
"  sheep/'  and  guarding  them  against 
the  "  wolves,"  which,  of  course,  in- 
clude everything  outside  of  their 
fold. 

Here  we  have  the  most  absolute 
obedience  and  belief  in  THE 
CHURCH,  whatever  it  may  teach, 
and  the  consequent  safety  in  the 
other  world,  by  virtue  of  paying 
dues,  and  discharging  easily  per- 
formed duties,  and  making  confes- 
sion and  receiving  absolution  from 
time  to  time,  and  especially  at  the 
hour  of  death,  at  the  hands  of  the 
visible,  audible,  and  tangible  being 
with  whom  the  devotee  has  to  do, 
perhaps  his  own  child  or  near  rela- 


tion. Romanism,  by  captivating 
the  senses,  with  its  seductive  music, 
incense,  and  gorgeous  ceremonial, 
j  and  forms  of  worship  generally,  and 
'  particularly  the  mass  and  confession, 
and  absolution,  that  enthrall  the  soul, 
becomes  part  of  his  nature,  which 
he  will  not  and  cannot  doubt  any 
more  than  he  would  his  own  exist- 
ence, or  that  of  the  amulets  on  his 
person  to  keep  him  constantly  re- 
minded of  being  a  "  son  of  the 
Church;"  but  if  such  a  thought  is 
entertained  it  becomes  a  heinous 
offence,  that  requires  a  correspond- 
ing penance  before  it  can  be  for- 
given. The  very  essence  of  his  re- 
ligion is  to  believe  and  receive 
everything  taught  by  his  Church, 
and  close  his  ears  against  everything 
to  the  contrary.  In  short,  the  wor- 
shipper is  passive  in  the  hands  of 
the  priest,  who  undertakes  every- 
thing for  him  on  his  yielding  im- 
plicit obedience  to  his  commands,  as 
those  of  the  Church ;  and  the  priest 
becomes  to  him  the  door-keeper  of 
heaven,  without  whose  permission 
there  is  no  admittance. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  have  the 
priest  so  far  raised  above  every  dig- 
nity known  to  man  that  even  kings 
in  secret  grovel  at  his  feet,  and  re- 
ceive from  him  pardon  and  a  pass- 
port to  purgatory,  or  have  them 
withheld,  or  rendered  of  no  ef- 
fect even  if  given,  according  to 
the  intention  or  inattention  of 
the  priest  when  pronouncing  them, 
or  the  quality,  reality  or  com- 
pleteness of  the  confession  ;  *  and 
there  they  remain  till  released 
by  the  alms  and  suffrages  of  the 
faithful  paying  for  masses  for  their 
(deliverance ;  which  masses  will  be 


*  The  following  passage  of  Scripture 
should  have  some  meaning  in  connec- 
tion with  the  every-day  confession  of  a 
%Romanist  to  his  priest,  on  the  strength 
of  which  he  is  absolved,  and  placed  in  the 
position  of  never  having  sinned  : — 

"  Godly  sorrow  worketh  repentance 
to  salvation,  not  to  be  repented  of;  but 
the  sorrow  of  the  world  worketh  death." 
— 2  Cor.  vii.  10. 


ROMANISM. 


said  as  long  as  they  are  paid  for, 
for  the  Church  does  not  publicly 
profess  to  know  or  teach  when  souls 
are  released,  and  passed  to  a  state 
of  final  happiness.  In  virtue  of  his 
consecration,  which  separates  him 
from  all  earthly  relations,  the  priest 
becomes  a  member  of  a  world-wide 
caste,  that  is  exalted  above  any 
order  that  can  be  conceived,  and 
that  secures  him  provision  for  life, 
almost  as  if  he  were  independent  of 
Providence  for  a  sustenance  ;  as  well 
as  immunity  against  arrest  or  punish- 
ment by  any  person  or  power  out- 
side of  the  Church,  where  Roman- 
ism is  completely  in  the  ascendant. 
Even  if  raised  from  the  dunghill,  he 
is  yet  eligible  to  the  office  of  our 
"  sovereign  lord  the  Pope,"  who  is 
"above  all  principalities  and  powers;" 
and  although  filling  an  humble  posi- 
tion in  the  Church,  and  yielding 
implicit  obedience  to  his  superiors, 
he  can  confess  and  pardon  even 
that  superhuman  dignitary,  as  if,  in 
short,  he  were  a  part  of  the  God- 
head itself ;  for  priests  confess  and 
pardon  priests  on  all  occasions,  no 
less  than  the  most  ignorant  devo- 
tees. And  let  anyone  wallow  in  the 
mire  every  day  of  his  life,  he  can 
go  to  the  priest  and  make  confession 
and  receive  forgiveness,  paying,  of 
course,  a  fee  on  the  occasion.  The 
most  memorable  events  in  the  lives 
of  priests,  before  or  after  consecra- 
tion, are  the  first  sin  they  pardoned, 
and  the  first  wafer  they  converted 
into  a  god  to  be  worshipped.  This 
"  mystery  of  iniquity"  is  propagated, 
bodily  and  mentally,  from  age  to 
age,  and  becomes  the  daily  life, 
and  hope  for  happiness  in  a  future 
state,  of  countless  millions ;  and  the 
dignified  sacerdotal  position  in  so- 
ciety, as  well  as  the  "bread  and 
butter,"  of  the  principals,  managers, 
or  governors,  with  no  apparent  pros- 
pect of  it  ever  coming  to  an  end. 
And  not  only  that,  but  it  makes 
converts  among  ritualists,  and  that 
floating  part  of  the  population,  of 
both  sexes  and  all  ages  and  classes, 


that,  in  the  language  of  St.  Paul  to 
Timothy,  are  "  ever  learning  and 
never  able  to  come  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth;"  and  (which  is  not  so 
surprising)  among  those  who  have 
little  more  knowledge  of  religion 
than  the  instinct  of  nature — "that  in- 
tellectual and  emotional  want  that 
is  as  common  to  man  as  instinct  is 
to  the  brute  creation  for  the  ends 
which  it  has  to  serve."* 

Every  religion  of  which  we  have 
any  knowledge,  except  what  has 
been  revealed  in  the  Scriptures, 
seems  to  have  sprung  from  the  ex- 
ercise of  this  natural  instinct,  which 
was  doubtless  accompanied  origin- 
ally by  a  revelation.  So  deep  is  the 
darkness  and  mystery  surrounding 
the  origin  and  degradation  of  re- 
ligion, and  the  innumerable  forms 
of  worship  and  superstition  to  which 
they  gave  birth,  that  we  may  dis- 
miss the  questions  from  contempla- 
tion so  far  as  they  could  illustrate 
any  one,  in  whole  or  in  part,  known 
to  us,  except  in  the  matters  of  sac- 
rifice and  prayer.  But  even  these 
are  worthy  of  little  regard,  inasmuch 
as  in  the  cases  of  the  enlightened 
Greeks  and  Romans,  St.  Paul  tells 
us  that  "  the  things  which  the  Gen- 
tiles sacrifice,  they  sacrifice  to  devils 
(demons)  and  not  to  God"  (i  Cor. 
x.  20).  And  the  prayers  which  ac- 
companied their  sacrifices,  as  well 
as  their  supplications  in  general,  no 
matter  how  sincere  they  were,  doubt- 
less went  in  the  same  direction — 
certainly  to  beings  that  existed  only 
in  the  imaginations  of  the  worship- 
pers; as  illustrated  by  Plato — the 
divine  and  godlike  Plato — when  he 
said,  "  Let  us  pray,"  and  thus  began  : 
"  O  Pan,  and  ye  other  gods  of  this 
place;"  and  by  Socrates  when  he 
said,  "  Crito,  we  owe  a  cock  to  yEs- 
culapius ;  pay  it,  and  by  no  means 
neglect  it."  God  did  not  altogether 
abandon  men  to  themselves,  "  for 
the  invisible  things  of  him  from  the 
creation  of  the  world  are  clearly 

*  Disquisition  on  the  Gipsies,  p.  502. 


ROMANISM. 


seen,  being  understood  by  the  things 
that  are  made,  even  his  eternal 
power  and  Godhead ;  so  that  they 
are  without  excuse"  (Rom.  i.  20). 
"  Nevertheless  he  left  not  himself 
without  witness,  in  that  he  did  good, 
and  gave  us  rain  from  heaven,  and 
fruitful  seasons,  filling  our  heart  with 
food  and  gladness  "  (Acts  xiv.  17), 
although  "  in  times  past  he  suffered 
all  nations  to  walk  in  their  own  ways" 
(verse  16),  "because  that,  when 
they  knew  God,  they  glorified  him 
not  as  God,  neither  were  thankful ; 
but  became  vain  in  their  imagina- 
tions, and  their  foolish  heart  was 
darkened.  Professing  themselves 
to  be  wise,  they  became  fools,  and 
changed  the  glory  of  the  incorrupt- 
ible God  into  an  image  made  like 
to  corruptible  man,  and  to  birds, 
and  four-footed  beasts,  and  creep- 
ing things,  wherefore  God  also  gave 
them  up  to  uncleanness  "  (Rom.  i. 
21-24).  "  And  even  as  they  did  not 
like  to  retain  God  in  their  know- 
ledge, God  gave  them  over  to  a  rep- 
rojpate  mind  ....  who,  know- 
ing the  judgment  of  God,  that  they 
which  commit  such  things  are 
worthy  of  death,  not  only  do  the 
same,  but  have  pleasure  in  them 
that  do  them"  (verses  28  and  32), 
yet  holding  them  to  accountability, 
"  for  when  the  Gentiles,  which  have 
not  the  law,  do  by  nature  the  things 
contained  in  the  law,  these,  having 
not  the  law,  are  a  law  unto  them- 
selves ;  which  show  the  work  of  the 
law  written  in  their  hearts,  their  con- 
science also  bearing  witness,  and 
their  thoughts  the  meanwhile  accus- 
ing or  else  excusing  one  another.  " 
(Rom.  ii.  14,  15). 

Here  we  have  the  human  mind, 
while  possessing  its  wants  and 
natural  instincts  intact,  presenting  a 
vacuum  in  regard  to  religious  know- 
ledge, into  which  an  impostor  or  en- 
thusiast could  force  his  way,  but 
with  much  difficulty,  and  keep  pos- 
session through  the  religion  he 
introduced,  till  dispossessed  by 
some  other;  the  devotions  or  whims, 


wants  or  vices  of  its  members,  the 
growth  of  a  priesthood,  and  the 
nature  of  their  organization,  doc- 
trines and  ceremonies,  and  the  man- 
ner in  which  these  were  presented 
to  the  worshippers,  the  lapse  of 
time,  and  the  political  or  social  con- 
vulsions of  society,  as  well  as  the 
corruption  or  abuse  of  the  religion 
itself,  such  as  it  was,  influencing  the 
question  of  a  faith,  taking  or  keep- 
ing possession  of  a  people  where  a 
revelation  was  not  given,  or  brought 
to  bear  upon  them. 

Many  of  the  religions  of  human 
nature  doubtless  had  their  origin  in 
"  the  spontaneous  and  gradual 
growth  of  superstition  and  impos- 
ture, modified,  systematised,  adorn- 
ed or  expanded  by  ambitious  and 
superior  minds,  or  almost  wholly  in 
the  conception  of  these  minds."  * 
How  a  religion  or  form  of  worship 
might  have  had  its  origin  is  illus- 
trated in  the  adventure  of  Paul  and 
Barnabas  among  the  rude  people  at 
Lystra,  when  they  would  have  ren- 
dered divine  honours  to  them  as 
Jupiter  and  Mercury,  but  for  the 
objection  that  was  made;  when  the 
priest  of  Jupiter,  apparently  rush- 
ing in  on  the  top  of  the  wave,  to  be 
ahead  of  the  people,  and  the 
master  of  ceremonies,  "  brought 
oxen  and  garlands  unto  the  gates, 
and  would  have  done  sacrifice  with 
the  people  "  (Acts  xiv.  13),  although 
he  would  doubtless  have  been  just  as 
ready  to  head  them  in  slaying  the 
Apostles,  had  the  current  run  in  that 
direction.f  How  a  religion  has 


*  Disquisition     on     the     Gipsies,     p. 

502. 

f  The  other  instance  when  St.  Paul 
was  taken  for  a  god  was  on  the  island  of 
Melita  or  Malta,  when  a  viper  fastened 
on  his  hand  as  he  laid  a  bundle  of  sticks 
on  a  fire.  The  barbarous  people  present 
immediately  concluded  that,  having  just 
escaped  shipwreck,  he  must  have  been  a 
murderer,  whom  vengeance  would  not 
suffer  to  live.  "  But  after  they  had  look- 
ed a  great  while,  and  saw  no  harm  come 
to  him  [for  'he  shook  off  the  beast  into 
the  fire  and  felt  no  harm'],  they  changed 


ROMANISM. 


53 


been  established  in  modern  times, 
in  the  memory  of  people  hardly 
past  the  middle  of  life,  is  illustrated 
by  Mormonism,  which  has  a  much 
greater  hold  upon  its  followers  than 
the  world  is  aware  of,  or  willing  to 
believe. 

The  conclusion  to  be  drawn 
would  be,  that  human  nature  was 
formerly,  as  it  is  now,  capable  of  in- 
venting a  religion,  and  setting  up  a 
worship,  and  establishing  a  priest- 
hood, manufacturing  it  out  of  noth- 
ing, as  it  were,  having  everything  to 
seek  where  nothing  was  to  be  found, 
except  the  natural  instinct  of  man 
to  receive,  and  the  faculty  to  act  on, 
what  was  presented  to  it.  Why, 
then,  could  not  that  self-same  hu- 
man nature,  as  it  got  gradually  con- 
verted to  or  absorbed  in  it,  and 
then  born  into  it,  take  an  actual 
revelation,  complete  in  itself,  and 
applying  to  this  life  and  the  next, 
and  create  from  or  out  of  it  a  re- 
ligion and  worship  completely  its 
own,  but  much  superior  to  common 
Paganism,  using  its  facts,  ideas  and 
phrases  only  to  twist  and  pervert 
them  to  "  other  purposes  and  to- 
wards other  objects  than  the  origi- 
nal ones,"  and  adding  "  innumer- 
able superstitions"  to  it ;  so  that  it 
became  a  religion  of  nature,  or 
Paganism,  which  its  followers  would 

their  minds,  and  said  that  he  was  a  god  " 
(Acts  xxviii.  1-6). 

Deification  among  the  Pagans  seems 
to  have  been  a  common  occurrence,  but 
it  was  only  that  of  the  true  benefactors  of 
mankind  that  took  root  and  flourished. 
It  was  the  rule  among  the  heathen  em- 
perors of  Rome,  extending  sometimes  to 
members  of  the  imperial  family.  Thus 
Tacitus  says  that  Tiberius  forbad  the 
"  forms  of  religious  worship"  at  the 
funeral  of  his  mother,  Livia,  the  widow 
of  Augustus  ;  which  was  unnecessary,  as 
"it  was  her  desire  not  to  be  deified." 
Claudius,  however,  rendered  her  "divine 
honours,"  as  related  by  Suetonius.  And 
a  daughter  of  Nero,  dying  before  she  was 
four,  months  old,  we  are  told  by  Tacitus, 
"  was  canonised  for  a  goddess  :  a  temple 
was  decreed  to  her,  with  an  altar,  a  bed 
of  state,  a  priest,  and  religious  cere- 
monies." 


afterwards  even  fight  for,  as  "  the 
faith  of  their  ancestors,"  or  main- 
tain it  for  contention  or  filthy  lucre's 
sake,  or  make  it  supply  the  place 
generally  filled  by  all  the  religions 
known  among  men  ?  When  such  a 
revelation  had  been  perverted,  God 
could  with  much  more  reason  and 
justice  not  merely  "  give  them  over 
to  a  reprobate  mind,"  as  he  did  the 
heathen,  but  "  send  them  strong  de- 
lusion that  they  should  believe  a  lie, 
that  they  all  might  be  damned  who 
believed  not  the  truth,  but  had  pleas- 
ure in  unrighteousness"  (2  Thess. 
ii.  ii,  12).* 

We  read  of  the  Apostles  healing 
people  or  striking  them  dead,  or 
bringing  them  to  life  again  (which 
no  priest  will  attempt  to  do),  but 
never  of  their  having  pardoned  their 
sins,  for  the  apparent  reason  that 
God  alone  does  that  with  the  really 
penitent  and  believing;  while  the 
other  gifts,  being  visible  and  tangi- 
ble acts,  obvious  to  every  one,  would 
serve  the  purpose  of  advancing  the 
religion  preached,  which  the  pardon 
of  sins  could  not  do,  and  was  there- 
fore foreign  to  the  mission  of  the 
Apostles,  as  applicable  to  any  other 
offences  than  those  connected  with 
church  discipline.  But  the  fountain 
for  the  washing  away  of  sins  as 
against  God,  claimed  by  a  priest, 
ignorant  and  immoral  as  he  some- 
times is,  never  runs  dry  or  freezes, 
particularly  while  the  applicant's 
money  holds  out;  while  St.  Peter 

*  This  seems  to  have  been  the  "  natural 
history  "  of  man  : — First,  we  have  the  race, 
with  the  exception  of  Noah  and  his  fam- 
ily, destroyed  by  the  flood  (Gen.  vi.  5-8), 
without  apparently  improving  it  ;  next, 
the  confusion  and  scattering  of  it  at  Ba- 
bel ;  then  the  Jews — who  "  received  the 
law  by  the  disposition  of  angels  and  did 
not  keep  it" — dispersed  over  the  earth, 
for  their  wickedness  ;  and  lastly,  the  way 
in  which  the  Christian  Revelation  was 
sooner  or  later  treated.  All  these  cast 
a  certain  light  over  the  "darkness  and 
mystery  surrounding  the  origin  and  deg- 
radation of  religion,  and  the  innumerable 
forms  of  worship  and  superstition  to 
which  they  give  birth." 


ROMANISM. 


scorned  to  accept  money  to  confer 
a  Christian  grace,  with  the  words, 
"  Thy  money  perish  with  thee,  be- 
'  cause  thou  hast  thought  that  the 
gift  of  God  may  be  purchased  with 
money "  (Acts  viii.  20).  Nor  did 
he  pardon  any  one,  for  he  said, 
"  Repent  therefore  of  this  thy  wick- 
edness, and  Pray  GW,  if  perhaps 
the  thought  of  thine  heart  may  be 
forgiven  thee"  (verse  22).  Nor 
would  he  allow  any  one  to  fall  down 
at  his  feet,  for  he  raised  Cornelius 
from  that  position,  saying,  "  Stand 
up  ;  I  myself  also  am  a  man  "  (Acts 
x.  26).  Nor  would  Paul  and  Barna- 
bas, on  the  occasion  mentioned,,  al- 
low the  same  to  be  done,  for  we  are 
told  that  when  the  people  would 
have  rendered  them  divine  honours, 
as  understood  among  heathens, 
"  they  rent  their  clothes,  and  ran  in 
among  the  people,  crying,  out,  and 
saying,  Sirs,  why  do  ye  these 
things  ?  We  also  are  men  of  like 
passions  with  you,  and  preach  unto 
you  that  ye  should  turn  from  these 
vanities  unto  the  living  God,  which 
made  heaven,  and '  earth,  and  the 
sea,  and  all  things  that  are  therein  " 
(Acts  xiv.  14,  15).  While  St.  Peter 
permitted  no  one  to  fall  down  at  his 
feet,  but  made  him  stand  up,  his  so- 
called  successor  allows  and  expects, 
if  he  does  not  command,  even  the 
kings  of  the  earth  to  kiss  his  foot, 
or  rather  his  big  toe,  as  well  as  that 
of  the  statue  of  "  Blessed  Peter."* 
And,  although  no  one  doubts  that  a 
living  lion  is  better  than  a  dead  dog, 
Romanists  "worship  the  Saints," 
who  for  anything  they  know  never 
were  saints,  some  of  them  being  of 
doubtful,  others  of  hateful  character, 
and  some  of  them  never  having  had 
any  existence  as  saints  or  sinners. 


*  It  is  interesting  to  notice  the  light  in 
which  the  old  Pagans  would  have  re- 
garded such  an  act  of  homage,  if  rendered 
to  one  of  their  emperors  ;  for,  says  Plu- 
tarch : — "  If  you  were  commanded  to  kiss 
Caesar's  feet,  you  would  think  it  an  out- 
rage and  an  excess  of  tyranny.  What 
else  is  this  than  slavery?" 


And  it  is  partly  through  the  merits 
and  intercession  of  such  uncertain 
beings  that  Romanists  expect  to  get 
to  heaven.  Not  content  with  that, 
they  will  not  even  let  their  bones 
rest  in  peace,  or  the  rags  that  covered 
them  while  on  earth  or  in  the  tomb, 
but  use  them  (or  substitutes  for 
them)  for  conferring  benefits  on  the 
living ;  while  they  pray  to  the  sup- 
posed saints  in  heaven,  imagining 
that  they  can  hear  and  attend  to  the 
wants  of  countless  millions  at  the 
same  time,  as  if  they  were  omni- 
present and  omniscient,  and  there- 
fore gods.  The  Apostles  would  re- 
ceive no  veneration  or  worship  from 
any  one  while  on  earth,  for  they 
were  engaged  in  too  holy  a  cause, 
and  were  of  too  elevated  character 
to  look  for  that,  or  approve  of  it 
after  death,  or  perhaps  even  give  a 
thought  to  the  estimation  in  which 
they  would  personally  be  held 
among  men. 

We  are  told  in  the  Scriptures  that 
the  Church  is  "  built  upon  the  foun- 
dation of  the  apostles  and  prophets," 
that  is,  on  what  they  taught,  "  Jesus 
Christ  himself  being  the  Chief  Cor- 
ner-stone "  (Ephes.  ii.  20) ;  but  Ro- 
manists tell  us  that  Peter  had 
length  and  breadth  and  thickness  on 
which  to  erect  the  whole  Church, 
past,  present,  and  to  come  !  A  sorry 
foundation  "  Blessed  Peter  "  was  on 
which  to  build  anything.  Although 
possessed  of  many  eminent  quali- 
ties, he  was  forward,  hasty  and  pre- 
sumptuous, and  much  of  a  bragga- 
docio— having  "  given  up  his  all," 
perhaps  "  an  old  cobble  boat  and  a 
rotten  net,"  to  follow  his  master; 
often  open  to  reproof  and  correction, 
and  apt  to  get  his  company  into 
trouble,  yet,  like  the  rest,  a  runaway 
when  real  danger  presented  itself. 
Three  times,  with  cursing  and  swear- 
ing, did  he  deny  his  master,  who  at 
one  time  ordered  him,  as  Satan,  to 
get  behind  him,  like  a  dog  that  had 
been  spoken  to.  After  the  ascen- 
sion, he  so  trimmed  and  shuffled  on 
a  question  that  should  have  been 


ROMANISM. 


55 


met  in  a  manly  way,  that  Paul 
"  withstood  him  to  the  face  because 
he  was  to  be  blamed"  (Gal.  ii,  n), 
for  being  a  "  dissembler,"  and  as 
guilty  of  "  dissimulation  "  (verses 
11-16).  He  unquestionably  occu- 
pied the  position  of  priority,  and 
priority  only,  at  first,  but  afterwards, 
as  his  character  or  capacity  develop- 
ed itself,  a  secondary  one,  that  of  a 
servant,  messenger  or  deputy,  in 
carrying  out  his  colleagues'  deci- 
sions ;  and  then  he  became  the  Apos- 
tle to  the  Jews.  And  was  it  on  this 
rolling  stone  that  the  Church  was 
built,  and  through  whom  the  Pope 
claims  to  be  infallible  in  faith  and 
morals,  in  virtue  of  merely  being 
his  so-called  successor  as  bishop  of 
Rome,  when  no  positive  evidence 
can  be  shown  that  "  Blessed  Peter  " 
ever  was  at  Rome,  and  much  to 
show  that  he  never  was  bishop  of  it  ? 
In  all  their  allusions  to  their  Church, 
Romanists  never  mention  the 
Greeks,  for  the  reason  that  they  are 
heretics  and  schismatics  from  that 
Church,  that  is,  according  to  their 
theories,  from  the  Church,  having 
broken  away  from  it  when  they 
formed  about  a  third  of  its  num- 
bers, after  having  been  founded 
and,  as  it  were,  colonized  by  it,  the 
mother  Church  in  which  Christianity 
altogether  had  its  origin  and  was  de- 
veloped ;  and  from  which  they  sepa- 
rated, as  the  United  States  parted 
from  their  mother  country,  but  un- 
der somewhat  different  circum- 
stances. 

Never,  in  all  my  conversations 
with  Romanists,  could  I  get  one  of 
them  to  enter  upon  that  subject,  or 
even  allow  it  to  be  discussed,  for  the 
reason  that  they  can  advance  no 
argument  in  proof  of  their  own  le- 
gitimacy ;  but  they  are  very  brave 
when  the  question  is  between  Rome 
and  the  rest  of  the  West,  while  they 
will  scowl  when  the  Eastern  Church 
is  mentioned  to  them. 

The  Pope  should  be  required,  in 
legal  phraseology,  to  "  prove  his 
pedigree  "  on  the  following  points : — 


i st.  Was  St.  Peter  in  any  way  in- 
fallible, that  is,  when  "  speaking  ex 
cathedra"  or  otherwise  ?  Or  did  he 
ever  personally  speak  ex  cathedra 
at  all  ? 

zd.  Did  he  ever  pardon  sins,  not 
as  against  himself  or  the  Church, 
but  as  against  God,  so  that  they 
could  not  be  charged  against  the 
sinner  in  a  future  state  ? 

If  neither  of  these  can  be  proved 
of  him,  then  his  so-called  successors, 
and  their  priests,  in  claiming  such 
attributes,  as  being  inherited  or  in 
any  way  derived  from  or  through 
him,  must  be  impostors ;  without 
raising  the  question  whether  Peter 
or  any  of  the  Apostles  transmitted 
such  power  to  any  who  have  since 
claimed  it,  assuming  that  it  was 
possessed  by  the  Apostles  at  first ; 
or  asking  why  Romanists  do  not 
also  claim  the  power  of  healing  the 
sick,  raising  the  dead,  or  working 
the  other  miracles  of  the  Apostles. 

3<r/.  When  the  Romans  seceded 
from  the  Church,  under  the  circum- 
stances mentioned,  did  they  not 
thereby  become  heretics  and  schism- 
atics ?  If  they  did,  they  are,  accord- 
ing to  their  own  theories,  no  better 
than  heathens,  outside  of  the  pale 
of  salvation. 

4//z.  Did  St.  Peter  exercise  any 
dominion  over  the  rest  of  the  Apos- 
tles, and  was  he  ever  at  Rome,  and 
if  so,  was  he  the  bishop  of  it  ? 

$th.  Assuming  that  he  was  at 
Rome,  and  the  bishop  of  it,  can  the 
Pope  prove  he  is  his  legitimate  suc- 
cessor ?  That  is,  can  he  show  that 
every  link  connecting  him  with 
"  Blessed  Peter  "  was  genuine,  ac- 
cording to  the  rule  of  consecration 
that  requires  that  every  one  con- 
tributing to  the  consecration  during 
the  past,  and  spreading  out  in  ev- 
ery direction,  up  to  the  time  of  the 
Apostles,  had  no  flaw  or  base  alloy 
in  it  ?  Or  if  that  rule  would  be  too 
arbitrary  and  comprehensive,  what 
other  one  would  he  adopt ;  or  what 
does  he  mean  by  consecration,  as  con- 
veying anything  from  the  Apostles  ? 


ROMANISM. 


6th.  How  does  he  regard  the  con- 
secrations made  in  the  fourteenth 
and  fifteenth  centuries,  when  two 
and  sometimes  three  sets  of  pontiffs, 
cardinals  and  councils  claimed,  at 
the  same  time,  to  be  the  Church, 
each  consecrating  bishops  and 
priests,  and  anathematizing  the 
others  and  all  consecrated  by  them  ? 
And  in  what  light  does  he  regard 
the  acts  of  the  Church  at  Rome, 
and  the  consecrations  made  by  it, 
when  seized  upon,  as  it  often  was, 
by  as  abandoned  men  as  ever  lived  ? 

When  a  religion  becomes  estab- 
lished and  dominated  by  a  priest- 
hood, and  especially  when  not  sur- 
rounded or  mixed  up  with  a  con- 
flicting one,  people,  as  a  body,  born 
and  brought  up  under  its  influence, 
so  far  as  they  have  religion  at  all, 
acquire  and  follow  it  as  naturally  as 
they  do  the  ways  and  observances, 
the  dialect  and  feelings  of  nation- 
ality, of  the  country  in  which  they 
have  been  reared ;  and  it  becomes 
to  them  something  like  an  iristinct 
of  nature.  This  applies  to  the 
Pope  no  less  than  the  most  ignor- 
ant peasant,  in  regard  to  what  they 
profess,  let  its  nature  and  merits, 
origin  and  development,  or  corrup- 
tion, be  what  they  may.  Nor,  for 
that  matter,  could  the  Pope  even 
have  acquired  the  art  of  feeding 
himself  as  he  does  had  he  not  been 
taught  it,  or  learned  it  by  imitating 
people  around  him ;  to  such  an  ex- 
tent are  we  generally  indebted  to 
our  fellow-creatures,  or  society,  for 
the  knowledge  we  possess,  whatever 
that  knowledge  may  be.  It  is  ques- 
tionable if  what  Romanists  hold  in 
regard  to  religion  generally  takes  a 
stronger  hold  on  their  belief,  feel- 
ings or  observances,  than  the  re- 
ligions of  Pagans -did  on  their  vo- 
taries, who  never  professed  to  fur- 
nish real  proofs  or  arguments  to 
support  the  origin  or  truth  of  what 
they  believed  or  taught.  And  the 
same  may  be  said  in  regard  to  the 
heathen  to-day.  The  absolute  and 
all-controlling  despotism  of  the  Ro- 


manist system  fills,  as  it  were,  the 
mind  and  almost  the  atmosphere 
which  the  person  breathes,  leaving 
little  chance  for  him  to  think  or  act 
otherwise  than  the  community  has 
hitherto  done ;  assuming  that  he 
has  the  capacity  to  do  it,  or  has  had 
it  so  trained  that  it  could  act  in 
such  a  way,  or  had  materials  within 
its  reach  on  which,  like  the  process 
of  digestion,  it  could  operate;  or 
had  education  of  any  kind,  or  had 
others  near  him  to  assist  him,  who 
are  much  more  apt  to  thwart  him 
in  any  desire  he  may  entertain  to 
change  his  belief.  If  he  doubts  or 
becomes  indifferent  to  it,  it  is,  as  it 
were,  in  secret,  however  he  may, 
from  habit  or  fear,  outwardly  ob- 
serve it ;  and  so  he  becomes  an  in- 
fidel,unable  to  advance  in  his  doubts, 
with  no  glimmering  in  any  tangible 
shape  of  what  is  better  than  what 
he  was  brought  up  to  (and  that  is 
very  common  among  Romanists),  so 
that,  at  the  very  best,  he  sends  for 
a  priest  at  his  latter  end  ;  for  he  has 
inherited  with  his  blood  too  great  a 
dislike  for  the  "  Black  Protestants" 
to  apply  to  them  for  relief.  Some- 
times he  lives  and  dies  an  atheist, 
or  a  deist  at  the  best. 

Strong  as  the  feeling  of  submis- 
sion is  that  is  shown  by  a  sincere  lay 
Romanist,  whose  religion  constitutes 
in  no  way  his  living,  calling,  or  posi- 
tion in  society,  it  is  infinitely  more 
so  in  the  case  of  the  priest,  who  is 
absolutely  bound  to  his  position  in 
every  way  in  which  he  can  be  held. 
All  priests  are  so  brought  up,  that  it 
might  be  said  of  their  education  that 
every  part  of  it  is  directed  to  t'he 
creation  of  a  strong  religious  feeling, 
in  order  that  they  might  "  breathe 
religion,"  such  as  it  is.  According 
to  their  system,  there  is  little  merit 
in  following  their  calling,  for  the 
despotic  discipline  of  their  Church, 
and  the  daily,  almost  hourly,  calls 
upon  them  to  discharge  its  many 
kinds  of  duties,  urge  them  on,  and 
keep  them  continually  moving  round 
in  the  vortex  in  which  they  were 


ROMANISM. 


57 


reared,  and  in  which  they  live,  and 
move,  and  have  their  being.  In  short, 
they  are  priests,  whose  duty  is  not  to 
think,  but  learn  the  system  of  their 
infallible  Church,  and  do  the  work 
of  priests,  to  which  they  have  been 
sworn  and  educated,  as  so  many 
well-made  and  well-oiled  machines, 
who  have  received  all  their  instruc- 
tion without  question,  or  almost  the 
capacity  of  questioning  it.  As  hu- 
man nature,  in  all  its  aspects,  with 
trifling  or  occasional  variations, 
perpetuates  itself  from  generation 
to  generation,  so  do  religion  and 
the  priesthood  which  dominates  it ; 
each  contributing  to  the  creation 
and  maintenance  of  the  other,  the 
priests  acting  on  the  people,  and  the 
people  acting  on  the  priests — a  con- 
tinual action  and  reaction  that  keep 
both  alive,  and  lead  to  the  filling 
up  of -the  ranks  of  the  priesthood, 
and  the  perpetuation  of  the  common 
religion.  So  much  are  priests  so 
many  machines,  so  to  speak,  that, 
with  the  Bible  in  their  hands,  Pro- 
testantism seems  to  the  best  of  them 
a  mystery,  however  much  one  may 
strive  to  get  them  to  understand 
that  it  is  nothing  but  the  teaching 
of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  whom 
they  (and  the  Jesuits  in  particular), 
in  their  own  peculiar  way,  profess 
to  have  so  much  at  heart  to  glorify 
before  men. 

If  a  doubt  arises  in  the  mind  of  a 
priest,  under  almost  any  ordinary 
circumstances,  it  is  generally  kept 
to  himself,  on  account  of  every 
priest  being  the  other's  confessor 
and  detective.  If  he  becomes  an 
infidel  or  atheist,  "  having  his  con- 
science seared  with  a  hot  iron," 
it  makes  no  difference  to  him  what 
he  thinks  of  the  position  he  fills. 
Like  many  a  Pagan  priest  of  old,  he 
is  "  in  the  service  of  the  gods,  if 
there  be  gods,"  but  he  does  not  be- 
lieve in  what  is  taught ;  he  does  not 
see,  however,  that  it  does  any  harm ; 
it  might  be  true,  or  not  true,  so  far 
as  he  knows  or  cares ;  at  least,  he 
does  not  doubt  the  phenomena  of 


human  nature,  and  all  its  wants 
and  superstitions,  with  which  he 
is  continually  called  upon  and 
forced  to  deal :  he  will  do  his  sworn 
duty,  which  is  eagerly  sought  and 
accepted  by  his  people,  whatever 
the  result  may  be.  And  as  regards 
himself,  he  will  submit  to  all  the 
offices  of  the  Church,  even  the  last, 
not  because  he  believes  in  them,  or 
because  they  can  benefit  or  cannot 
hurt  him,  but  because  it  is  his  sworn 
duty  to  do  so,  as  a  "  true  son  of  the 
Church;"  while  he  will  defend  it  to 
the  last  against  all  opposers. 

The  position  occupied  by  priests 
seems  to  them  something  like  an  in- 
herent part  of  human  nature  itself, 
for  it  has  existed,  in  some  form,  in 
all  ages  and  religions  (the  Christian 
only  excepted),  as  if  people  were 
created  for  them,  and  they  for  the 
people,  in  whose  minds  there  is  a 
vacuum  in  regard  to  ghostly  matters, 
which  they,  without  controversy, 
question  or  doubt,  have  to  fill, 
whether  it  relates  to  this  life  princi- , 
pally,  as  under  the  old  Pagan  sys- 
tem, or  this  life  and  the  life  to  come, 
both  of  which  Romanism  embraces ; 
the  future  life  being  the  principal 
fulcrum  used  by  them  to  operate  on 
the  passions  to  secure  obedience  to 
their  Order,  which  identifies  itself  in 
the  highest  degree  with  the  most 
important  matter  that  concerns  man. 
It  is  for  them,  the  sole  and  exclu- 
sive possessors  of  truth  and  power, 
to  direct,  manage  and  dominate 
over  others  in  things  spiritual,  and 
temporal  so  far  as  they  can  accom- 
plish it ;  and  live  upon  them,  as  one 
animal  looks  upon  another  as  its 
natural  prey;  and  their  constant 
thought  is  about  them.  Being  an 
exclusive  caste,  by  virtue  of  its  con- 
secration, and  having  many  peculi- 
arities which  are  kept  secret  from 
the  world,  it  is  exceedingly  jealous 
of  outsiders  prying  into  its  actions, 
or  the  principles  by  which  it  is 
governed  and  held  together;  and 
that  these  should  be  divulged  by 
any  of  themselves,  or  that  anything 


ROMANISM. 


derogatory  to  a  member  should  be 
made  public.  It  necessarily  occu- 
pies a  position  like  that  of  a  con- 
spiracy against  the  rest  of  the  world, 
as  if  it  slept  over  a  volcano  that 
might  burst  out  at  any  time  (how- 
ever much  it  may  feel  assured  of 
the  absolute  submission  of  its  devo- 
tees), particularly  when  there  are 
"  heretics "  in  the  community. 
That  can  be  plainly  seen  in  the  fur- 
tive glances  of  the  priests,  especially 
when  they  cannot  immediately  tell 
the  persuasion  of  the  people  they 
meet  with,  although  their  deport-  | 
ment  towards  them  soon  reveals 
what  it  is.  The  priests  know  well 
the  estimation  in  which  the  "  here- 
tic "  holds  them,  and  few  of  them 
can  be  unaware  that  their  calling  j 
has  been  stamped  upon  their  coun-  I 
tenances,  let  them  disguise  them- 
selves in  almost  any  way  they 
please;  countenances  which  are 
generally  anything  but  pleasant  for 
the  rest  of  the  world  to  contem- 
plate. 

The  principal  idea  in  the  minds 
of  priests  is  that  of  "  shepherds  and 
sheep;"  and  they  "handle  their 
flocks "  as  if  they  were  literally 
sheep,  confessing  and  pardoning 
them,  and  collecting  their  dues, 
with  the  expertness  that  comes  from 
practice,  as  real  sheep  are  shorn  or 
dressed.  Well  has  the  confessional 
been  called  a  "  slaughter-house  of 
consciences,"  for  both  confessor 
and  confessed.  It  presents  a  won- 
derfully mutual  and  ghastly  fascina- 
tion for  priest  and  people — a  spell, 
laid  upon  both  in  early  youth,  and 
practised  ever  since,  that  can  hardly 
be  broken — the  one,  of  all  ages  and 
sexes  and  conditions  in  life,  pouring 
into  the  mind  of  the  other  sins  of  every 
nature,  whether  in  thought,  word 
or  deed,  and  often  all  the  circum- 
stances connected  with  them ;  mak- 
r  ing  the  priest's  mind  the  receptacle 
of  the  moral  filth  of  the  world,  dug 
out  by  the  most  systematic  cross- 
questioning,  and  drawn  up,  as  it 
were,  with  a  stomach-pump,  and 


suggesting  sins  that  might  never 
otherwise  occur  to  the  devotee. 
The  most  deplorable  part  of  the 
confessional  is  when  women  must 
divulge  the  most  secret  peculiarities 
of  their  nature  to  the  priests,  to  the 
younger  of  whom  it  is  often  agree- 
able enough;  but  many  of  them 
will  lament  the  result,  and  shed 
tears  when  they,  in  their  turn,  con- 
fess, and  yet  will  almost  immediately 
afterwards  enter  the  pulpit,  and  in 
the  most  devout  and  eloquent  lan- 
guage expatiate  on  the  "miraculous 
interposition  of  God  in  keeping  his 
priests  as  pure  as  angels  in  the  con- 
fessional." They  come  well  trained 
to  fill  the  office,  having  had  to  take 
their  degree  of  competency  from 
some  hoary  old  professor  of  the 
science.  Then  in  God's  name  they 
pardon  the  penitents,  placing  them  in 
the  position  of  never  having  sinned ; 
and  that  over  and  over  again,  even 
hundreds  of  times,  for  the  same  per- 
son, sinning,  confessing  and  being 
pardoned  in  rotation,  each  time 
drawing  their  fees  when  they  do  it.* 
In  short,  the  priest  is  their  "  keeper" 
in  this  world,  and  opens  unto  them 
the  gate  of  happiness  in  the  next, 
at  his  pleasure,  or  according  to  his 
judgment,  taking  toll  from  them 
when  in  life,  and  from  their  rela- 
tions after  death.  There  are  so 
many  singular  things  peculiar  to  the 
priests  of  Rome,  that,  in  spite  of  the 
honours  and  submission  shown  them 
by  their  followers,  one  would  think 
they  must  have  a  sense  of  inward 
degradation  when  possessed  of  some 
of  the  finer  feelings  of  our  nature, 
and  to  a  great  extent,  if  not  alto- 
gether, sincere  in  most  of  what  they 
teach  and  practise  of  their  worship, 
which  is  "  in  all  things  too  religious," 
as  St.  Paul  characterized  that  of 
the  Athenians.  And  language  can- 


*  It  will  naturally  occur  to  the  reader 
to  ask,  is  this  the  system  that  some 
people  are  anxious  to  see  introduced  as 
part  of  the  religion  of  the  Church  ot 
England  ?  Let  it  be  once  established,  and 
it  would  soon  swallow  all  the  rest. 


ROMANISM. 


59 


not  express  the  detestation  in  which 
they  should  be  held,  should  they 
totally  disbelieve  what  they  profess 
— "  speaking  lies  in  hypocrisy" — 
especially  when  they  undertake  to 
pardon  sins  against  the  Creator. 

The  power  or  influence  possessed 
by  the  priests  of  Rome  resembles, 
firstly  and  generally,  that  exercised 
by  those  of  old  Paganism,  as  well  as 
any  other  human  religion  that  exists, 
or  has  ever  existed.  It  has  been 
infinitely  increased  by  the  terrors  of 
death  and  the  invisible  world,  in  an 
especial  degree  peculiar  to  Chris- 
tianity, the  keys  of  which  the  priests 
say  they  hold.  This  claim  the  de- 
votees so  absolutely  believe  in,  that 
their  constant  thoughts  are  to  have 
a  priest  before  the  breath  leaves 
their  bodies,  to  insure  them  ulti- 
mately, as  they  think,  a  place  in 
heaven,  however  severe  or  long  the 
pains  of  purgatory ;  and  that  masses 
shall  be  paid  for  to  release  their 
,  souls  from  the  intermediate  state, 
and  pass  them  to  their  final  resting 
place.  The  ancient  religions  laid 
claim  to  no  such  power  ;  they  had 
not  even  any  definite  ideas  regard- 
ing a  future  state,  although  it  was 
believed  in,  in  a  general  way,  with 
many  crude  superstitions  connected 
with  it.  Nor  did  their  priests 
trouble  themselves  much,  if  any- 
thing, with  the  consciences  of  men  ; 
all  that  they  demanded  was  that  the 
temples  should  be  attended,  and  the 
gods  worshipped,  according  to 
established  ritual,  which  contained 
no  doctrinal  system  involving  hap- 
piness or  misery  in  a  future  state, 
based  on  historical  or  revealed 
truths,  but  sacrifices,  prayers  and 
spectacles,  and  ceremonies  that  ex- 
tended to  the  minutest  detail  of 
public,  social,  and  private  life ;  and 

fave  such  freedom,  or  variety,  to 
umanity  that  it  could  invoke  a 
deity  for  every  place  or  object,  want 
or  occasion,  faculty,  feeling,  or  pas- 
sion, virtue,  or  even  vice,  to  which  it 
was  subject.  Such  a  religion 
rested  on  ritual  observance  and  the 


authority  of  the  priests,  and  ancient 
tradition,  that  is,  on  legend  and  im- 
memorial usage.  On  that  it  was 
that  Cicero  made  his  characters 
say,  "  I  must  believe  the  religion  of 
our  ancestors  without  any  proof," 
and,  "  It  is  the  part  of  a  wise  man 
to  uphold  the  religious  institutions 
of  our  ancestors,  by  the  mainten- 
ance of  their  rites  and  ceremonies  ;" 
to  publicly  deny  which  endangered 
the  person  at  the  hands  of  the  peo- 
ple, no  less  than  the  priests,  whose 
only  care  was  that  the  gods  should1, 
be  worshipped,  according  to  law, 
with  all  that  that  implied.  Paganism 
would  tolerate  any  kind  of  thought 
or  conduct  that  submitted  to  its 
authority,  and  attended  the  temples, 
but  persecuted  everything  that  im- 
pugned it ;  and  would  not  molest 
other  religions,  or  forms  of  worship, 
becoming  established  by  law,  that 
admitted  their  worship,  however 
much  they  mfght  differ  ;  such  being 
the  religious  genius  of  the  ancient 
world,  expressed  by  the  phrase, 
"intercommunity  of  gods."*  And 
so  pleasantly  did  that  religion 
generally  present  itself  to  the  peo- 
ple, that  Plutarch,  who  was  priest  at 
Chaeronea,  remarked: — "What  we 
esteem  the  most  agreeable  things  in 
human  life  are  our  holidays,  temple- 
feasts,,  initiatings,  processionings, 
with  our  public  prayers  and  solemn 
devotions." 

On  what  other  basis  does  Ro- 
manism practically  rest  than  the 
old  Pagan  one,  even  including  to  a 
great  extent  the  intercommunity  of 

*  "  For  individuals  to  worship  private 
gods,  or  new  gods,  or  strange  gods,  would 
introduce  a  confusion  of  religions,  and 
all  kinds  of  unknown  ceremonies.  This 
is  not  the  way  in  which  gods  accepted  by 
the  priests  and  by  the  Senate  should  be 
worshipped,  even  if  they  approved  of 
such  regulations"  (Cicero  on  the  Laws,  by 
Younge,  p.  439).  "  The  rights  of  ances- 
tors are  likewise  to  be  preserved  in  their 
families,  for  since  the  ancients  approach- 
ed nearest  to  the  gods,  that  religion 
which  the  gods  handed  down  to  them  is 
a  tradition  most  worthy  of  memorial ''  (p. 
440). 


6o 


ROMANISM. 


creeds  ?  It  is  not  particular,  when 
it  has  not  the  power  to  enforce 
obedience,  as  to  the  variations  of 
rituals,  or  even  doctrines,  provided 
submission  is  made  to  the  Pope — 
the  essential  point  in  the  system — 
even  undisguised  heathenism  being 
to  a  great  extent  tolerated  under 
such  circumstances.  Convince  Ro- 
manists, beyond  all  question,  of 
most  of  their  doctrines  and  prac- 
tices having  no  foundation  in  Scrip- 
ture, tradition,  or  authentic  history, 
but  absolutely  contrary  thereto ; 
that  would  not  alter  their  belief  in 
them.  A  large  part  of  them  seem 
impervious  to  the  least  suspicion  of 
error  in  them,  having  been  brought 
up  to  believe  that  it  is  a  deadly  sin 
to  call  in  question  or  doubt  them,  or 
even  put  themselves  in  the  way  of 
hearing  either  done;  and  not  that 
they  lack  the  capacity  to  entertain 
or  understand  what  is  said  in  regard 
to  them.  They  will  *  answer  that 
they  "  believe  what  the  Church 
believes,  because  she  is  infallible," 
without  being  able  to  give  an  in- 
telligible definition  to  the  words 
used,  and  ignoring  what  may  be 
said  of  the  claim  of  infallibility. 
This  is  only  the  old  Pagan  reason 
expressed  by  Cicero  : — "  I  must  be- 
lieve the  religion  of  our  ancestors 
without  any  proof;"  and  which 
Romanists  would  hold  if  their 
Church  laid  no  claim  to  infallibility, 
and  could  not  even  tell  how  it 
originated,  or  how  it  came  into  pos- 
session of  the  doctrines  or  observ- 
ances which  it  teaches.  But  the 
idea  of  infallibility  gives  a  peculiar 
form  to  the  natural  sentiment,  and  a 
peculiar  strength  to  it;  not  because 
it  was  ever  demonstrated  to  Roman- 
ists in  the  dark  ages,  when  the  peo- 
ple were  not  in  a  position  to  judge 
of  proof,  or  to  Romanists  to-day, 
whether  ignorant  or  otherwise,  but 
because  it  has  been  persistently  and 
on  all  occasions  asserted  by  those  in 
possession  of  the  religion,  and  sub- 
mitted to  as  a  natural  and  inherent 
part  of  it,  without  question.  And 


no  matter  how  much  it  has  departed 
from  the  word  of  God,  or  from  tra- 
dition or  history,  or  how  much  it 
has  in  positive  opposition  to  them, 
or  how  much  it  has  varied  ever  'j 
since,  or  how  much  it  has  added  up 
till  to-day,  including  the  immaculate 
conception  and  the  ever-virginity  of 
Mary,  and  the  infallibility  of  the 
Pope,  Romanists  assert  that, 
"  Everything  the  Church  believes 
she  has  received  direct  from  the 
Apostles,  having  the  unanimous 
consent  of  the  fathers  to  support  it ; 
and  that  she  has  never  varied  in 
any  of  her  teaching!" 

Christianity  originated  when 
civilization  was  at  its  height,  and 
differed  from  Paganism  in  that  it 
was  based  on  historical  facts.  Its 
real  doctrines  and  precepts  have 
come  down  to  us  in  the  form  of  his- 
tory, although  now  nearly  overlaid 
by  the  traditions,  superstitions  and 
impostures  of  Rome.  Romanists 
are  indeed  in  possession  of  the 
Western  division  of  the  Church,  in 
an  historical  sense,  while  the  Eastern 
division,  differing  from  the  other  in 
many  points  of  government  and  dis- 
cipline, doctrine  and  ritual,  denies 
the  validity  of  its  baptism,  and 
treats  it  with  scorn  generally. 
Paganism  having  nothing  positive 
to  appeal  to  as  to  its  origin,  found  in 
that  circumstance  an  element  of 
strength,  for  it  could  neither  be  at- 
tacked nor  defended  on  that  ground, 
but  rested  upon  the  natural  feeling 
of  man  in  all  ages,  that  of  "  vene- 
rating the  religion  of  its  ancestors."* 

*  This  is  the  ground  on  which  Pro- 
testantism itself  really  rests — the  religion 
of  its  ancestors  ;  these  ancestors  being 
Christ  and  his  Apostles.  Without  a 
revelation,  human  nature  can  fall  back  on 
nothing  but  what  Cicero  says,  as  we  have 
seen: — "Since  the  ancients  approached 
nearest  to  the  gods,  that  religion  which 
the  gods  handed  down  to  them  is  a.  tradi- 
tion most  worthy  of  memorial." 

Romanists  lay  great  stress  on  their  be- 
lief being  "  that  of  their  ancestors,'' 
without  asking  themselves  how  far  back 
these  ancestors  run.  Such  a  doctrine 
would  have  prevented  these  ancestors 


ROMANISM. 


61 


It  made  a  strong  and  a  long  fight 
against  Christianity,  and  to  a  great 
extent  ultimately  smothered  it. 
Like  a  woman  marrying,  it  lost  its 
name  and  personal  identity,  but 
transmitted  to  posterity  a  numerous 
and  vigorous  progeny.  It  gave  to 
the  Romanists  the  form  of  their 
churches,  and  many  of  their  temples, 
altars  and  idols ;  their  government 
and  organization ;  their  pontiff, 
priests  and  vestals ;  and  a  multitude 
of  their  peculiarities,  such  as 
canonizations  or  demigodism,  saints' 
days  and  festivals,  incense,  lustra- 
tions and  holy  water,  votive  offer- 
ings, pontifical  dispensations,  conse- 
cration of  sacred  places,  winking, 
nodding,  sweating  and  bleeding 
images,  relics,  vestments,  etc.  ;  all 
of  which  have  been  palmed  off  upon 
the  world  as  Christianity !  It  in- 
vented its  confessional  1,250  years 
after  the  introduction  of  Christianity, 
for,  as  Dean  Stanley,  in  his  Lectures 
on  the  Eastern  Church,  says  : — "  The 
priestly  expression  of  absolution, 
which  in  the  Western  Church  was 
in  the  same  thirteenth  century 
changed  into  the  positive  form  *  I 
absolve  thee,'  in  the  Eastern  Church 
is  still,  as  it  always  was,  '  May  the 
Lord  absolve  thee.'  "  * 

embracing  Christianity,  in  whatever  form 
it  was  presented  to  them  ;  and  as  an 
argument,  would  have  applied  to  any 
superstition  or  idolatry  that  ever  existed 
in  the  world.  Two  systems  of  Paganism 
in  competition  would  resemble  two  per- 
sons contesting  the  possession  of  pro- 
perty without  title-deeds.  Of  course, 
each  could  claim  and  maintain  what  it 
was  in  possession  of,  for  the  reason  that 
possession  gives  a  title  when  no  one  can 
show  a  better.  And  so  it  would  happen 
that  the  one  system  of  Paganism  could 
not  injure  the  other,  so  far  as  the  origin  of 
each  was  concerned.  Romanism,  how- 
ever, is  in  possession  on  two  titles,  that  of 
occupancy,  as  the  successor  of  both 
Paganism  and  Christianity,  and  a  formid- 
ably specious  one  in  the  shape  of  Chris- 
tian muniments,  that  make  it  a  difficult 
matter  to  reduce  by  any  ordinary  form  of 
procedure.  The  better  way,  as  I  have 
said  at  page  55,  is  for  the  world,  as  repre- 
senting the  Crown,  to  call  on  Romanists 
to  "  prove  their  pedigree,"  and  produce 
the  charter  by  which  they  hold,  to  see 


I  Let  any  disinterested  and  candid 
person  carefully,  or  even  super- 
ficially, study  the  New  Testament 
and  Romanism,  not  altogether  as  it 
exists,  in  some  churches,  in  the  midst 
of  Protestants,  but  as  it  is  found  in 
the  books,  hearts  and  practices  of 
its  priests  and  people  all  over  the 
world,  and  he  cannot  but  conclude 
that  that  religion  is  not  Christianity. 
It  will  naturally  enough  call  itself 
by  that  name,  for  such,  at  least,  it 
has  inherited ;  and  it  will  as  natural- 
ly fall  back  on  its  historical  records 
and  associations,  in  the  manner  of 
all  institutions  known  among  men, 
however  unworthy  it  is  of  them,  and 
however  much  it  may  have  de- 
parted from  its  letter  and  spirit,  and 
substituted  others  for  them,  to  give 
support  to  its  existence,  and  the 
tremendous  powers  it  lays  claim  to. 
No  religion  was  ever  introduced  that 
gave  a  priesthood  more  plausible 
pretexts  to  exercise  dominion  over 
its  followers,  or  more  powerful  ma- 
chinery to  oppress  them,  illustrating 
the  saying  that  what  is  the  best  be- 
comes the  worst  when  prostituted 
to  the  basest  of  purposes.  It  has 
been  said  that  Romanism  could  not 
have  spread  so  far,  or  lasted  so  long, 
had  it  not  some  deep  foundation  in 


whether  they  have  performed  its  condi- 
tions, or  have  corresponded  otherwise 
with  the  description  of  the  parties  therein 
described.  In  a  mere  historical  sense,  as 
representing  possession — if  that  amounts 
to  anything,  as  distinguished  from  the 
spirit,  doctrines,  and  practices  of  the 
Christian  religion  —  the  Easterns  can 
always  be  played  off  against  the  Romans, 
putting  the  latter  on  the  defensive,  to 
prove  that  they  are  what  they  claim  to  be. 

*  New  York  Edition  of  i862,/.  126. — In 
this  work  we  find  the  following  remarks  : 
— "  No  theory  of  the  Christian  Church 
can  be  complete  which  does  not  take 
some  account  of  their  [the  Eastern 
Churches']  existence,"  in  which  are  "  to  be 
found  nearly  a  third  part  of  Christendom 
— one  hundred  millions  of  souls  profess- 
ing the  Christian  faith  "  (p.  89). — "  The 
field  of  Eastern  Christendom  is  a  com- 
paratively untrodden  field"  (p.  88). — "  The 
centralization  of  the  West,  as  displayed 
in  the  Papacy,  is  unknown  in  the  East" 
(p.  128). 


62 


ROMANISM. 


human  nature.  The  same  question 
could  be  started  with  regard  to  the 
corrupt  Eastern  Churches,  and  the 
origin,  development  and  continuance 
of  all  the  human  religions  that  have 
existed,  and  especially  the  Paganism 
which  Christianity  encountered  in 
Asia,  Africa  and  Europe.  And  yet 
we  find  that  these  maintained  them- 
selves for  centuries  after  Christianity 
made  its  appearance.  If  such  could 
exist  for  so  many  ages  when  undis- 
turbed, and  for  so  long  after  being 
attacked  by  Christianity,  what  dif- 
ficulty can  there  be  in  believing 
that  Romanism — a  mixture  of  de- 
graded Christianity  and  almost 
everything  that  could  be  added  to 
it — can  maintain  and  extend  itself, 
when  it  rests  upon  an  infinitely  bet- 
ter foundation  than  the  old  Pagan- 
ism, and  is  so  much  better  but- 
tressed than  any  human  religion 
known?  The  existence,  perpetua- 
tion, and  increase  of  Romanism 
among  the  same  races  that  followed 
the  old  Paganism,  and  that  possess- 
ed the  nature,  wants  and  necessities 
of  men  of  to-day,  need  therefore 
cause  no  comment,  surprise  or  won- 
der. And  thus  it  happens  that 
Christianity  (in  other  instances  be- 
sides Romanism),  after  being  so 
thoroughly  degraded  as  to  become 
a  religion  of  nature,  or  "  of  this 
world,"  will  perpetuate  itself,  with 
some  Christian  doctrines  and  ob- 
servances, while  two  threads  of  it 
hang  together,  where  it  has  thor- 
oughly obtained  a  footing,  and  is 
dominated  by  a  priesthood,  and  is 
allowed  to  exist  in  peace,  owing  to 
the  personal,  social  and  political 
necessity  of  man  having  a  religion 
of  some  kind,  and  the  difficulty  at- 
tending the  introduction  of  a  new 
one,  of  divine  origin  or  purely  hu- 
man in  its  nature. 

We  must  not  forget  that  Roman- 
ism has  been  the  gradual  growth  of 
ages,  each  generation,  as  it  were, 
having  contributed,  and  is  still  con- 
tributing, to  its  development;  each 
generation  accepting  its  predeces- 


sor's additions,  as  history  records, 
and  daily  experience  testifies.  Hav- 
ing become  fairly  established,  there 
would  be  little  chance,  in  the  face  of 
its  organization  and  the  common 
belief  in  its  claims,  of  any  one  call- 
ing it  in  question,  unless  in  secret, 
without  the  objection  being  instant- 
ly suppressed.  It  is  too  serious  a 
matter  to  interfere,  in  any  age,  with 
any  of  the  established  beliefs  of 
society  that  have  no  reference  to  re- 
ligion, for  any  one  to  have  thought 
of  attacking  a  creed  like  that  of 
Rome,  based  on  the  infallibility  of 
the  Church,  at  the  head  of  which 
was  "  our  sovereign  lord  the  Pope," 
who  was  lord  paramount  of  this 
world,  to  whom  kings  were  subject, 
who  possessed  the  keys  of  heaven 
and  hell,  and  could  bless  or  curse 
men  or  nations  at  pleasure,  giving 
dispensations  and  indulgences  for 
sins  still  to  be  committed,  and  mak- 
ing that  sin  which  was  no  sin,  and 
that  not  sin  which  was  sin.  The 
Church  was  the  heir  of  old  Rome, 
as  regards  its  government,  language 
and  literature,  its  laws,  sciences,  and 
arts.  Its  priests  were  the  sole  de- 
positories of  education  and  know- 
ledge, civilization  and  government, 
the  owners  of  vast  wealth  wrung 
from  the  community,  and  the  dis- 
pensers of  charity,  in  an  ignorant 
society,  dominated  by  the  barbarian 
chiefs  that  overran  the  Western 
Empire.  They  were  also  the  instru- 
ments of  the  amalgamation  of  races 
and  the  abolition  of  serfship,  to 
whom  the  people  looked  for  their 
religion  and  assistance  in  the  direc- 
tion of  their  temporal  matters,  and 
of  whom  they  were  proud,  although 
treated  in  the  matter  of  religion 
(conducted  in  a  language  unknown 
to  them)  as  cattle  are  foddered. 
And  it  is  a  question  whether  what 
they  did  were  merits,  or  merely,  or 
for  the  most  part,  to  maintain  their 
dominion  over  their  followers. 

This  is  the  power  with  which 
Protestants  are  called  upon  to  dis- 
pute for  the  religious  empire  of  the 


ROMANISM.  63 


world.  They  meet  an  opponent  in 
possession  of  a  faith  "  from  time 
immemorial,  and  universal  in  its  do- 
main," with  a  people,  or  a  large  part 
of  it,  devotedly  attached  to  it ; 
which  all  history  and  the  very  na- 
ture of  man  prove  to  be  the  most 
difficult  of  labours  to  change  by  ag- 
gression from  without,  even  when 'it 
lays  claim  to  no  positive  authority 
for  its  origin  and  truth.  They  must 
also  meet  an  organization  which  has 
been  truly  called  "  the  very  master- 
piece of  human  wisdom,"  the  princi- 
pal end  of  which  is  to  maintain  its 
dominion  over  its  subjects ;  and 
which  utilizes  every  class  and  kind 
of  sentiment  to  be  found  within  its 
communion,  forming  them  into  so- 
cieties for  that  purpose;  all — lay 
As  well  as  clerical — being  inspired  i 
by  the  same  motive,  and  acting  as  | 
one  body  to  accomplish  the  com- 
mon end  ;  the  most  ignorant  of  its 
members  being  the  most  devoted  to 
its  interests.  If  Christianity  itself, 
with  its  divine  influences  and  mirac- 
ulous accompaniments,  did  not  suc- 
ceed till  after  many  centuries  in 
ridding  part  of  the  world  of  hea- 
thenism, which,  in  a  sense,  rested  on 
nothing,  and,  as  it  were,  had  nothing 
to  support  it,  how  can  Protestantism 
expect,  by  ordinary  means,  to  suc- 
ceed with  what  is,  for  the  most  part, 
Christian  in  name  only,  in  posses- 
sion of  the  history  and  associations 
of  Christianity,  running  back  so 
long,  with  its  many  plausible  argu- 
ments to  support  it,  as  being  the 
only  Christianity,  and  all  others 
claiming  it  to  be  but  "  doctrines  of 
hell ;"  both  of  which  its  votaries 
generally  absolutely  believe  in,  not- 
withstanding it  being  proved,  or 
offered  to  be  proved,  from  the 
Scriptures,  tradition  and  history, 
that  Protestantism — a  protest  against 
the  errors  of  Rome — is  the  Chris- 
tianity of  Christ  and  his  Apostles, 
and  that  Romanism  itself  is  a 
"  doctrine  of  hell"  ? 

Romanists,  with  the  exception  of 
many  of  the  men,  who  are  such  lit- 


tle more  than  in  name,  find  what  is 
necessary  to  serve  the  purposes  of  a 
religion  in  their  belief,  and  igno- 
rance of  everything  different  from 
it,  and  a  determination  to  learn 
nothing  else;  for  their  belief  is 
most  sincere,  and  they  cannot  bring 
their  minds  to  entertain  the  ques- 
tion whether  their  priests,  "  who 
never  deceived  them,"  can  be  in 
error,  and  far  less  impostors.  The 
sincere  Romanist,  realizing  the  cer- 
tainties of  life  and  death,  and  the 
idea  of  a  future  state,  with  its  re- 
wards and  punishments,  believes 
and  does  what  the  priest  tells  him 
to  do.  What  he  wants  is  a  cer- 
tainty, which  the  priest  readily 
enough  assures  him  of;  and  he  ac- 
cepts the  pardon  of  his  sins  in  this 
world,  which  the  priest  as  readily 
gives  him,  for  to  wait  till  forgiven  by 
God,  in  this  world  or  the  next,  is 
not  what  his  knowledge  or  fears  call 
for.  The  confession  of  sins  at 
death,  with  a  desire  to  atone  for 
them  and  lead  a  better  life,  made  to 
some  one  present  on  that  awful  oc- 
casion, are  feelings  natural  to  man, 
which  Romanists  have  cunningly 
abused,  as  they  have  perverted  most 
of  the  other  religious  instincts.  Not 
content  with  death-bed  scenes,  they 
will  confess  and  pardon  votaries 
proceeding  on  short  trips,  such  as 
to  bathe  in  the  sea,  with  the  same 
object,  giving  them  amulets  to  carry 
on  their  persons  as  sovereign  as- 
surances of  certainty  and  safety. 
Nor  will  a  surgeon  approach  Ro- 
manists, in  serious  cases,  till  after 
they  have  seen  their  priest,  or  rather 
the  priest  them,  when  they  become 
the  most  satisfactory  subjects  to  ope- 
rate on. 

Nominal  Romanists,  whatever 
they  may  ultimately  become,  will,  as 
members  of  their  respective  com- 
munities or  nationalities,  defend 
their  Church,  as  they  would  any 
other  institution  that  is  theirs,  not 
merely  because  it  is  "  the  religion  of 
their  fathers,"  but  from  motives  of 
pure  party-spirit,  as  is  common  with 


64 


ROMANISM. 


human  nature.  But  the  sincere  Ro- 
manists stake  everything  upon  their 
submission  to  their  Church ;  so  that, 
to  disturb  them  in  their  belief  is 
like  rending  their  heart-strings,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  incapacity  of 
many,  if  not  most,  of  them  to  ac- 
quire a  new  religion.  Even 
Samuel  Johnson  used  to  say  that 
many  an  Englishman  would  be- 
come a  religious  man,  if  he  only 
knew  how  to  go  about  it.  Sincere 
Romanists,  however,  are  seldom 
such  by  reflection  and  knowledge, 
like  Protestants ;  but  by  having  been 
the  subjects  of  the  ghostly  influences 
of  the  priest  and  Church  before 
their  earliest  recollections,  and 
which  they  have  hardly  ever  been 
without. 

As  regards  the  priests,  many  of 
them  are  doubtless  sincere,  particu- 
larly the  less  intellectual  or  more 
ignorant  ones,  however  questionable 
they  may  privately  consider  some  of 
the  doctrines  and  practices  of  their 
Church,  or  how  they  originated,  or 
some  of  their  own  actions  in  life,  or 
the  means  they  resort  to  to  support 
the  interest  and  dignity  of  the 
Church,  and  everything  connected 
with  it.  The  whole  matter  concerns 
the  questions,  what  we  are,  where  we 
come  from,  and  whither  we  go, 
about  which  no  one  personally 
knows  anything,  but  must  naturally 
look  somewhere  outside  of  himself 
for  information.  Everything  Ro- 
manists have,  they  have  inherited, 
and  been  most  rigorously  brought 
up  to.  It  is  a  possession  received 
from  a  high  antiquity,  to  be  believed 
in,  maintained,  and  transmitted  un- 
impaired to  the  end  of  time.  It 
must  be  upheld  against  every  oppo- 
nent, as  everything  that  is  pure  and 
holy,  angelic  and  august,  surrounded 
with  its  halo  of  hoary  antiquity,  and 
the  grandeur  of  mighty  Rome ;  and 
everything  derogatory  to  it  must  be 
refuted,  denied,  or  got  rid  of  in  some 
way.  All  this  having  been  bandied 
about  and  dinned  into  the  ears  of 
priests  from  generation  to  genera- 


tion— every  one  receiving  what  was 
asserted,  or  none  disputing  it,  and 
all  outside  more  or  less  believing 
and  practising  it — must  necessarily 
have  become  the  belief  to  a  greater 
or  less  extent  among  the  priests ;  at 
least  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  wheth- 
er always  completely  believed  in  or 
not,  it  was  the  religion  that  all  should 
ob*ey  and  venerate.  Many  of  them, 
however,  from  the  Pope  downwards, 
have  been  actual,  if  not  professed, 
infidels  and  atheists,  looking  upon 
everything  they  taught  and  defended, 
as  to  them,  so  many  fortunate  and 
profitable  fables.  It  is  a  great  stretch 
on  the  charity  and  credence  of  those 
outside  of  their  fold  to  believe  that 
many  of  them  can  be  altogether  sin- 
cere in  what  they  profess  and  teach.* 
Romanists,  before  they  began  the 


*  Many  things  will  occur  to  the  reader 
under  this  head.  For  example,  a  convert 
leaves  a  large  amount  by  will  for  masses 
for  his  soul,  and  a  high  dignitary  calls 
upon  the  widow  for  a  further  large  sum, 
giving  as  his  reason  that  the  legacy  had 
got  him  only  so  far  out  of  purgatory.  This 
happened  to  my  own  knowledge  in  a 
Protestant  community,  but  I  pass  over 
the  particulars  for  an  obvious  reason. 
Priests  can  go  a  great  length  in  a  matter 
like  this,  or  in  anything  tyrannical,  or  even 
odious  ;  for  the  devotees  will  turn  to  their 
Church,  however  hardly  used,  as  the)* 
cannot  change  their  religion  as  they  do 
their  garments.  And  no  one  knows  that 
like  the  priests. 

In  communities  entirely  Romanist,  the 
poorest  and  most  ignorant  devotees  are 
frequently  treated,  in  many  respects,  little 
better  than  dogs;  indeed,  as  many,  on 
getting  possession  of  dogs,  treat  them 
roughly  to  test  their  dog-like  quality  of 
submission,  so  do  priests  sometimes  ap- 
pear to  test,  in  a  somewhat  similar  way, 
the  obedience  of  their  people.  The  genius 
of  their  religion  makes  it  a  moral  necessi- 
ty to  exact  absolute  submission  to  them 
as  representing  it.  When  a  contractor 
engages  labourers  on  an  extensive  scale, 
and  especially  when  at  a  distance  from 
powerful  local  authority,  he  will  some- 
times "keep  a  priest;"  and  frequently 
will  "his  reverence"  be  seen  coming 
"  tearing  "  down  the  road,  with  a  whip  in 
hand.  And  that  man  would  be  "  torn  from 
limb  to  limb  "  who  would  dare  to  lay  his 
hand  upon  him,  or  treat  him  disrespect- 
fully. 


ROMANISM. 


study  for  the  priesthood,  are  assumed 
to  have  been  as  highly  endowed  with 
the  natural  religious  instinct  as  oth- 
er people ;  and  their  second  careful 
training  has  developed  in  them  a 
strong  religious,  priestly,  or  sacerdo- 
tal feeling,  connected  with  what  is 
distinct  from  the  material  things  of 
life,  such  as  may  be  called  forth  by 
parts  of  the  service,  its  dogmas,  in- 
cense, music,  singing,  praying  and 
confession,  and  ceremonies  foolish 
enough  in  themselves,  and  that  gen- 
eral obeisance  to  what  is  outside  of 
themselves,  and  which  may  be  called 
ghostly;  without  destroying,  but 
rather  sharpening,  those  instincts 
that  are  applied  to  advance  the  in- 
terests of  their  corporation — all  so 
impressed  on  them  that  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  wean  them  from  "  Mother 
Church."  To  realize  in  some  degree 
the  ghostly  feeling  of  Romanists — 
lay  or  clerical — let  any  one  enter 
their  churches,  and  lay  aside  his  re- 
ligious knowledge  and  principles, 
and  he  can  feel  what  Pagans  were 
inspired  with  when  they  entered 
their  temples  and  gloomy  religious 
groves,  provided  he  has  a  lively  im- 
agination, and  a  sensitive  feeling  of 
the  religion  of  nature.  And  that 
can  be  said  in  a  much  greater  degree 
of  Romanists  themselves,  to  whom 
the  scene  conveys,  generally,  an  ex- 
quisite pleasure  and  a  profound  awe ; 
and  especially  when  they  contem- 
plate in  the  mass,  God  on  the  altar, 
their  own  belief,  confession,  and 
absolution,  and  the  mysterious  priest 
as  the  instrument  of  the  miracle  of 
transubstantiation,  and  the  custodier 
of  the  keys  of  heaven  for  all  believ- 
ers. Such  phenomena  as  these  are 
nearly  everything,  when  supported 
by  the  common  example  of  old  and 
young ;  no  one  questioning  what  is 
s  taught  and  professed,  and  no  infor- 
mation to  be  had  to  the  contrary,  or 
no  disposition  shown  to  examine  it. 
Such  people,  when  they  come  to- 
gether, or  think  of  their  religion,  will 
look  at  each  other  for  encourage- 
ment and  support,  passive  or  active, 
5 


on  a  question  like  this,  that  has 
come  down  to  them  from  a  high  an- 
tiquity, when  anyone  expresses  a 
doubt  in  regard  to  it ;  and  the  most 
positive,  noisy  and  daring  of  them 
will  carry  the  crowd  with  them  in 
the  cry,  "  Great  is  Diana  of  the 
Ephesians,"  "  whom  all  Asia  and 
the  world  worshippeth."  And  "  what 
man  is  there  that  knoweth  not  how 
that  the  city  of  the  Ephesians  is  a 
worshipper  of  the  great  goddess 
Diana,  and  of  the  image  which  fell 
down  from  Jupiter  ?  "  "  Things  that 
cannot  be  spoken  against "  (Acts 
xix.),  as  if  they  were  facts  that  no 
one  could  or  would  dare  doubt. 
Humanity  as  such  will  not  question, 
and  is  hardly  capable  of  question- 
ing a  national  worship  of  this  kind, 
but  receives  it  actively  or  passively, 
with  something  like  a  natural  in- 
stinct. Whatever  the  abuses,  real 
or  apparent,  that  may  have  crept 
into  it,  it  was  not  for  the  priests 
publicly  to  make  an  ado  about  them, 
for  fear  of  destroying  the  whole  re- 
ligion of  the  Great  Diana  herself. 
If  it  is  hard  for  people  to  understand 
why  the  more  intelligent  of  the 
priests  of  Rome  do  not  condemn 
many  things  connected  with  their 
religion,  but  rather  teach  and  prac- 
tise them,  it  can  be  answered  that 
such  is  for  the  interest  of  themselves 
and  their  infallible  Church,  which 
has  to  be  upheld  under  all  circum- 
stances ;  to  say  nothing  of  the  things 
complained  of  being  submitted  to, 
and  doubtless  believed  in  by  as  in- 
telligent lay  members,  who  have  no 
particular  interest  in  doing  so.  Con- 
sidering the  amazing  things  that  have 
been  practised  as  religion,  we  need 
feel  no  surprise  at  what  comes  up  of 
that  hature,  and  must  therefore  re- 
serve an  opinion  on  what  is  believed 
or  not  believed  among  Romanists, 
lay  or  clerical.  At  the  worst,  we 
can  yield  to  the  priests  of  Rome  the 
credit  due  to  as  much  belief  in  their 
system  as  could  be  given  to  the 
priests  of  Paganism,  past  and  present, 
whatever  that  might  be,  provided 


66 


ROMANISM. 


they  have  never  read  the  original 
charter  of  Christianity,  and  been 
made  aware  of  the  changes  and 
variations  of  those  claiming  to  rep- 
resent it.  They  have  every  human 
motive  to  make  the  most  of  a  relig- 
ion which  none  of  them,  on  their 
own  knowledge,  and  relying  upon 
themselves,  can  tell  whether  it  is  true 
or  false ;  and  they  might  say  of  it  what 
Cicero  made  the  pontiff  of  old  Rome 
say  of  the  gods,  that  he  did  not  be- 
lieve in  them  as  a  man,  but  did  as  a 
pontiff,  and  as  one  upholding  the 
religion  of  his  ancestors.  The  real 
moral  responsibility  of  the  priests  of 
Rome  would  begin  with  the  study 
of  the  word  of  God,  and  tradition, 
and  history,  contrasting  these  with 
the  doctrines  and  practices  of  Rome 
to-day ;  which  they  will  not  do,  like 
one  that  is  afraid  or  ashamed  to 
look  at  himself  in  a  mirror. 

As  the  old  Pagans,  surrounded  by 
all  the  pomp  and  awe  of  animal  sac- 
rifices, incensed,  prayed  and  sang 
praises  to  "  Pan  and  all  the  gods," 
which  existed  only  in  their  imagina- 
tions, so  does  human  nature  worship 
its  deities  in  various  countries  to- 
day. As  the  Romans  adored  Jupi- 
ter, and  the  Greeks  Zeus — "the 
father  of  gods  and  men  "  —  with 
a  host  of  demigods,  and  to  a  great  ex- 
tent believed  in  God  in  the  abstract, 
but  did  not  worship  Him  adequately, 
or  only  along  with  a  multitude  of 
beings  of  their  own  creation,  so  it 
can  be  said  of  Romanists  in  their 
worship  of  God  and  the  saints,  who 
are  too  numerous  to  be  mentioned 
individually.  They  can  as  easily 
believe  in  Christ  and  the  Holy 
Ghost  as  they  believe  in  God  and 
the  saints,  or  as  the  old  Pagans 
believed  in  Jupiter,  or  as  Eastern 
nations  believe  in  their  deities,  when 
they  have  been  taught  from  infancy 
to  do  so,  and  when  it  is  obligatory 
on  them  as  a  part  of  an  inherited 
public  worship,  which  they  could 
not  altogether  corrupt  or  modify. 
Among  Romanists,  Christ  and  the 
Holy  Ghost  may  be  considered,  in 


common  with  God  and  the  saints, 
as  representing  the  deities  of  ancient 
Rome,  in  the  possession  of  a  sodali- 
ty of  priests,  or  close  sacerdotal  cor- 
poration, making  their  worship  a 
Pagan  one  in  reality,  although  Chris- 
tian in  name.  Here  we  would  have 
the  major  deities  changed  and  pre- 
sented merely  as  a  blind  to  the  real 
Paganism  and  idolatry  that  make  up 
the  worship,  viz.  :  that  of  the  Virgin 
and  the  saints,  and  the  innumera- 
ble superstitions  connected  with 
them ;  Christ  being  seldom  men- 
tioned or  thought  of,  but  brought 
forward  on  public  occasions  to 
support  or  constitute  their  position 
before  the  world ;  and  God  merely 
a  kind  of  Jupiter  whom  no  one 
must  trouble,  but  through  the  saints 
deputed  from  one  to  another,  till 
the  petition  reaches  the  "  greatest 
and  best,'-'  "  the  father  of  gods  and 
men,"  of  the  heathen.  Christ  and 
the  Holy  Ghost  seem,  in  practical 
Romanism,  to  be  there  merely  be- 
cause they  were  inherited,  and  could 
not  in  the  nature  of  things  be  kept 
out ;  while  the  Bible  is  a  superfluity, 
and  a  source  of  great  weakness 
when  appealed  to.  If  one  had 
entered  many  an  old  Roman  temple, 
he  would  have  found  the  people, 
with  more  or  less  sincerity,  accord- 
ing to  the  occasion,  worshipping 
Jupiter  and  some  of  the  demigods, 
and  many  with  great  sincerity  at  all 
times.  Let  one  enter  a  Roman 
Church  to-day,  and  he  will  find 
substantially  the  same  religion,  the 
same  human  nature,  and  the  same 
degrees  of  sincerity ;  the  saints  be- 
ing, at  the  very  least,  demigods  that 
are  supposed  to  hear  and  answer 
the  prayers  of  millions  at  the  same 
moment,  that  is,  beings  existing  in 
that  respect,  and  often  in  every 
respect,  only  in  the  imaginations  of 
the  worshippers. 

It  is  strange  that  Christianity, 
which  recognized  the  worship,  in 
all  its  simplicity,  of  God,  Christ, 
and  the  Holy  Ghost,  only,  and  our 
duties  to  each  other,  should,  as  it 


ROMANISM. 


were,  have  ended  in  the  system 
which  we  have  been  considering. 
And  it  is  strange  that  the  humility 
of  Christ,  "  whose  kingdom  was  not 
of  this  world,"  to  the  extent  that  he 
would  not  even  give  an  opinion  re- 
garding the  division  of  an  inherit- 
ance between  brothers,  should  have 
one  like  the  Pope  claiming  to  be  his 
vicegerent,  or  "  God  on  earth  " — the 
supreme  ruler  in  things  temporal  as 
well  as  spiritual  —  who  has  shed 
oceans  of  blood,  and  tortured  the 
bodies  and  souls  of  men,  for  no 
other  offence  than  reading  God's 
Word,  and  entertaining  conscien- 
tious opinions  in  consequence  there- 
of. Such  a  phenomenon,  with  all 
its  idolatry,  can  only  be  accounted 
for  for  some  such  reason  as  that  al- 
ready given,  viz  :  "  And  for  this 
cause  God  shall  send  them  strong 
delusion,  that  they  should  believe  a 
lie,  that  they  all  might  be  damned 
who  believed  not  the  truth,  but  had 
pleasure  in  unrighteousness  "  (2 
Thess.  ii.  n,  12).* 

The  Pope  has  been  declared  to 
be  infallible  to  enunciate,  but  what 
would  that  avail  if  his  followers  are 
not  equally  infallible  to  understand  ? 
Does  this  Italian  "  God  on  earth  " 
reveal  his  will  from  day  to  day  in 
Latin,  when  he  might  not  infallibly 
understand  that  language  ?  Who  in 
that  case  would  guarantee  the  infal- 
libility of  his  scribe,  or  the  infal- 
lible correctness  of  the  translations 
into  the  languages  of  all  the  tribes 
of  the  earth,  or  their  infallible 
meaning  to  the  bog-trotters  and 
brigands,  or  the  most  ignorant 
of  beings,  clothed  in  rags  and 
covered  with  vermin — mere  Mum- 
bo  Jumbo  religionists  —  who  are 
the  most  devoted  of  Romanists? 
In  short,  we  would  require  to  be 
all  infallible  to  make  the  infallibility 
of  one  of  any  use  to  the  world ;  and 
then  the  infallible  proclamation  of 
that  one  would  be  in  a  measure 
superfluous.  As  it  is,  the  Pope, 

*  See  page  53. 


manifesting  his  divinity  in  the  hear- 
ing of  one  who  did  not  understand 
his  language,  would  illustrate  the 
saying  of  St.  Paul,  when  he  wrote  : — 
"  If  I  know  not  the  meaning  of  the 
voice,  I  shall  be  unto  him  that 
speaketh  a  barbarian,  and  he  that 
speaketh  shall  be  a  barbarian  unto 
me  "  (i  Cor.  xiv.  n).  And  who  is 
to  decide  when  the  Pope  speaks  ex 
cathedra,  and  when  he  does  not 
speak  ex  cathedra,  or  how  can  that 
question  be  settled  ?  For  all  practi- 
cal purposes,  every  priest,  according 
to  the  system,  is  infallible  in  the 
teaching  he  gives  his  followers,  or 
how  can  they  feel  sure  that  what  he 
tells  them  is  truth  ?  And  what 
would  that  avail  them,  if  they  were 
not  also  infallible  to  receive  and  un- 
derstand what  he  tells  them  ?  Un- 
der any  circumstances,  even  with 
Romanists,  there  must  be  the  right 
of  private  judgment,  whatever  it 
might  result  in. 

Rather  than  "  search  the  Scrip- 
tures," which  he  dares  not  say  are 
not  infallible,  the  Pope  would  have 
nothing  less  than  the  human  family 
receive,  as  divine  and  infallible 
truths,  his  dogmas,  conveyed 
through  a  variety  of  earthen  con- 
duits, some  of  them  being  of  the 
basest  materials;  while  he,  or  the 
synagogue  of  which  he  is  the  chief, 
infallibly  assures  us  that  mankind 
at  large  can  make  nothing  of  these 
Scriptures,  and  would  be  guilty  of 
the  highest  presumption,  if  not  ab- 
solute profanity,  in  even  attempting 
to  do  it,  unless  in  rare  instances,  or 
by  priestly  permission.  Of  these 
same  Scriptures  St.  Paul  wrote  to 
Timothy :  —  "  From  a  child  thou 
hast  known  the  holy  Scriptures, 
which  are  able  to  make  thee  wise 
unto  salvation  through  faith  which 
is  in  Christ  Jesus"  (2  Tim.  iii.  15). 
The  apparent  trouble  of  the  Pope 
in  regard  to  the  Scriptures  is  to  get 
rid  of  their  circulation,  and  perhaps 
themselves,  altogether,  if  he  could 
do  either  with  any  show  of  decency ; 
and,  not  being  able  to  do  it,  beyond 


68 


ROMANISM. 


mistranslating  them  in  many  places, 
and  striking  out  the  second  com- 
mandment, "  Thou  shalt  not  make 
unto  thee  any  graven  image,"  it  is 
easy  to  understand  why  he  pro- 
scribes them  to  the  extent  he  does, 
or  limits  the  reading  of  them ;  for 
when  they  are  earnestly  and  prayer- 
fully studied  by  his  followers,  they 
lead  them  to  "  renounce  him  and  his 
works,"  with  a  bitterness  that  al- 
most amounts  to  an  execration,  after 
loosening  themselves  from  the  toils 
in  which  they  had  been  held.  Could 
not  the  Pope,  in  virtue  of  his  re- 
cently proclaimed  superhuman  at- 
tribute, be  prevailed  on  to  favour  the 
world  with  an  ex  cathedra  decision 
on  the  meaning  of  the  following 
passages  of  Scripture  : — 

"  Now  the  Spirit  speaketh  expressly, 
that  in  the  latter  times  some  shall  de- 
part from  the  faith,  giving1  heed  to  se- 
ducing spirits,  and  doctrines  of  devils  ; 
speaking  lies  in  hypocrisy  ;  having  their 
conscience  seared  with  a  hot  iron  ;  for- 
bidding to  marry,  and  commanding  to 
abstain  from  meats,  which  God  hath 
created  to  be  received  with  thanksgiving 
of  them  which  believe  and  know  the 
truth." — i  Tim.  iv.  1-3. 

"  Let  no  man  deceive  you  by  any 
means  ;  for  that  day  shall  not  come,  ex- 
cept there  come  a  falling  away  first,  and 
that  man  of  sin  be  revealed,  the  son  of 
perdition  ;  who  opposeth  and  exalteth 
himself  above  all  that  is  called  God,  or 
that  is  worshipped ;  so  that  he  as  God 
sitteth  in  the  temple  of  God,  showing 
himself  that  he  is  God." — 2  Thess.  ii. 
3,4- 

Lord  Bacon  used  to  say  that  if 
these  passages  were  printed  as  a 
"  hue  and  cry,"  no  constable  in 
England  would  find  a  difficulty  in 
laying  his  hands  on  the  person 
wanted. 

The  ten  commandments  were  de- 
livered to  Moses  amidst 

"Thunders    and   lightnings,    and    a 


thick  cloud  upon  the  mount,  and  the 
voice  of  the  trumpet  exceeding  loud ;  so 
that  all  the  people  that  was  in  the  camp 

trembled And  Mount  Sinai 

was  altogether  on  a  smoke,  because  the 
Lord  descended  upon  it  in  fire  ;  and  the 
smoke  thereof  ascended  as  the  smoke 
of  a  furnace,  and  the  whole  mount 
quaked  greatly." — Ex.  xix.  16-18. 

And  Christ,  whose  vicegerent  the 
Pope  claims  to  be,  said  : — 

"  For  verily  I  say  unto  you,  Till 
heaven  and  earth  pass,  one  jot  or  one 
tittle  shall  in  no  wise  pass  from  the  law, 
till  all  be  fulfilled.  Whosoever  there- 
fore shall  break  one  of  these  least  com- 
mandments, and  shall  teach  men  so,  he 
shall  be  called  the  least  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven"  (Matthew  v.  18,  19). 
"  Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away ; 
but  my  words  shall  not  pass  away." — 
Mark  xiii.  31,  and  Luke  xxi.  33. 

Here  is  the  second  command- 
ment, which  Romanists  keep  out  of 
their  catechisms  and  books  of  de- 
votion, and  the  Scriptures  them- 
selves, dividing  the  tenth,  so  as  to 
nominally  preserve  the  original 
number : — 

"  Thou  shalt  not  make  unto  thee  any 
graven  image,  or  any  likeness  of  any- 
thing that  is  in  heaven  above,  or  that  is 
in  the  earth  beneath,  or  that  is  in  the 
water  under  the  earth  :  Thou  shalt  not 
bow  down  thyself  to  them,  nor  serve 
them:  for  I  the  Lord  thy  God  am  a 
jealous  God,  visiting  the  iniquity  of  the 
fathers  upon  the  children  unto  the  third 
and  fourth  generation  of  them  that  hate 
me  ;  and  showing  mercy  unto  thousands 
of  them  that  love  me,  and  keep  my 
commandments." — Ex.  xx.  4-6. 

And  in  the  last  verse  but  two  of 
the  Scriptures  we  find  the  follow- 
ing:— 

"And  if  any  man  shall  take  away 
from  the  words  of  the  book  of  this 
prophecy,  God  shall  take  away  his  part 
out  of  the  book  of  life,  and  out  of  the 
holy  city,  and  from  the  things  which  are 
written  in  this  book." — Rev.  xx.  19. 


JOHN  STUART  MILL:*  A  STUDY. 


I. 

HIS   RELIGION. 

THE  most  satisfactory  way  of 
treating  his  Autobiography  is  to 
string  together  selections  from  it, 
and  with  comments  on  these  make 
them  furnish  an  antidote  to  its  mis- 
chievous tendencies,  in  the  way  that 
a  witness  is  made  to  prove  the 
worthlessness  of  the  cause  in  fa- 
vour of  which  he  is  brought  forward 
to  testify.  The  book  begins  bad- 
ly:- 

"  My  father,  the  son  of  a  petty  trades- 
man and  (I  believe)  small  farmer,  at 
Northwater  Bridge,  in  the  County  of 
Angus,  was,  when  a  boy,  recommended 
by  his  abilities  to  the  notice  of  Sir  John 
Stuart,  of  Fettercairn,  one  of  the  Barons 
of  the  Exchequer  in  Scotland,  and  was, 
in  consequence,  sent  to  the  University 
of  Edinburgh,  at  the  expense  of  a 
fund  established  by  Lady  Jane  Stuart 
(the  wife  of  Sir  John  Stuart)  and 
some  other  ladies,  for  educating  young 
men  for  the  Scottish  Church.  He 
there  went  through  the  usual  course  of 
study,  and  was  licensed  as  a  preacher, 
but  never  followed  the  profession,  hav- 
ing satisfied  himself  that  he  could  not 
believe  the  doctrines  of  that  or  any 
other  Church.  For  a  few  years  he  was 
a  private  tutor  in  various  families  in 
Scotland,  among  others  that  of  the  Mar- 
quis of  Tweeddale,  but  ended  by  taking 
up  his  residence  in  London,  and  devot- 
ing himself  to  authorship.  Nor  had  he 
any  other  means  of  support  until  1819, 
when  he  obtained  an  appointment  in  the 
India  House  "  (p.  3). 

"  I  was  brought  up  from  the  first 
without  any  religious  belief,  in  the 
ordinary  acceptation  of  the  term.  My 
father,  educated  in  the  creed  of  Scotch 
Presbyterianism,  had  by  his  own  studies 
and  reflections  been  early  led  to  reject 
not  only  the  belief  in  Revelation,  but  the 
foundations  of  what  is  commonly  called 
Natural  Religion  "  (p.  38). 

There  is  so  much  in  the  Autobi- 
ography that  is  so  illy  arranged,  and 


so  loosely  and  illogically  put  to- 
gether, that  among  other  things,  the 
positive  truth  cannot  be  drawn  from 
it  in  regard  to  the  stages  of  the 
elder  Mill's  religious  ideas ;  and 
there  is  much  that  requires  ex- 
planation about  him  consenting  to 
be  educated  by  others  for  the 
Church,  and  being  licensed  to  preach 
at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  and  then 
becoming  a  practical  atheist.  He  is 
described  as 

'•  One  who  never  did  anything  negli- 
gently; never  undertook  any  task,  lite- 
rary or  other,  on  which  he  did  not  con- 
scientiously bestow  all  the  labour  neces- 
sary for  performing  it  adequately  "  (p. 
4). 

A  man  of  his  talents  and  energy, 
with  a  conscience  to  regulate  them, 
could  not  surely  have  taken 
four  years'  study  in  literature  and 
philosophy,  and  then  four  years  in 
divinity,  at  the  university,  in  addi- 
tion to  his  school  and  home  train- 
ing, and  his  "  own  studies  and  re- 
flections," to  make  up  his  mind  on 
the  subject  of  the  first  principles  of 
religion  (saying  nothing  of  Chris- 
tianity). However  that  may  be,  he 
was  received  into  the  ranks  of  the 
clergy,  as  a  probationer,  after  a  severe 
examination  into  his  religious  know- 
ledge, learning,  walk  and  conversa- 
tion, and  giving  specimens  of  his 
sermons  and  prayers;  and  it  does 
not  appear  from  the  Autobiography 
that  he  did  not  preach  occasionally 
for  other  clergymen,  either  before  or 
while  he  was  a  tutor  in  the  families 
mentioned.  No  doubt  he  was  en- 
gaged in  the  latter  capacity  on  the 
faith — implied  or  expressed — of  his 
being  a  clergyman  of  the  Church, 
believing  its  doctrines ;  and  he  was 
most  probably  employed  while  tutor 

*  Born  May  2Oth,  1806  ;  died  May  8th, 

1873- 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


in  teaching  the  children  their  reli- 
gious lessons,  and  reading  the 
family  prayers,  or  conducting  the 
household  worship.  Notwithstand- 
ing that,  his  son  says  that  he  was 
"early  led  to  reject  not  only  the 
belief  in  Revelation,  but  the  founda- 
tions of  what  is  commonly  called 
Natural  Religion,"  merely  on  ac- 
count of  the  moral  and  physical 
evil  that  is  in  the  world,  and  the 
punishment  that  awaits  the  finally 
impenitent.  The  early  period  here 
mentioned  was  doubtless  long  be- 
fore he  was  twenty-five,  when 
licensed  to  preach;  a  supposition 
borne  out  when  he  says  : — 

"  I  have  heard  him  say  that  the  turn- 
ing-point of  his  mind  on  the  subject  was 
reading  Butler's 'Analogy.'  That  work, 
of  which  he  always  continued  to  speak 
with  respect,  kept  him,  as  he  said,  for 
some  considerable  time,  a  believer  in  the 
divine  authority  of  Christianity  "  (p.  38). 

The  "  some  considerable  time  " 
here  mentioned  is  a  very  indefinite 
phrase,  that  might  mean  some  months, 
or  weeks,  as  well  as  years.  He  was 
naturally  supposed  to  have  been  a 
believer  in  Christianity,  for  the  rea- 
son that  it  was  the  religion  of  the 
community  in  which  he  was  reared, 
as  would  be  the  case  with  a  child,  or  a 
grown-up  person  whose  mind  might 
be  called  a  sheet  of  blank  paper; 
not  as  a  matter  of  inquiry  or  evi- 
dence, but  merely  something  float- 
ing in  the  air,  like  any  popular  idea. 
There  is,  therefore,  an  absurdity  in- 
volved in  the  remark  that  it  was 
only  by  hanging  Butler  around  his 
neck  he  was  kept,  "  for  some  con- 
siderable time,"  a  believer ;  when  he 
became  an  atheist,  but  not  a  dog- 
matic one,  whatever  the  difference 
might  be.  "  These  particulars  are 
important  "  (p.  39).  Real  particu- 
lars would  have  been  important  had 
he  given  us  them,  in  place  of  the 
"  slovenliness  of  thought  "  that 
throws  no  light  on  the  religious  his- 
tory of  his  father  from  the  day  he 
went  to  college,  or  before  he  went 
there,  till  he  left  for  London.  The 


circumstances  and  details  between 
the  first  doubt  and  the  final  step, 
had  he  been  able  and  willing  to 
give  them,  would  doubtless  have 
been  interesting.  The  questions 
are,  when  did  he  first  read  Butler, 
and  when  did  he  throw  him  off? 
He  doubtless  read  him  not  later 
than  the  first  year  of  his  attendance 
at  the  divinity  hall,  or  while  at  the 
moral  philosophy  class,  or  as  is  the 
custom  to-day.  There  is  nothing 
to  show  that  James  Mill  ever  be- 
lieved in  Christianity,  when  he  came 
to  examine  into  it,  except  that  But- 
ler — "  the  turning-point  of  his 
mind" — kept  him  in  check  for 
"  some  considerable  time  " ;  pre- 
vious to  which  he  must,  of  course, 
have  been  a  sceptic,  possibly,  but 
not  probably,  before  he  even  went 
to  college.  At  the  best,  Butler  only 
kept  him  from  going  over  to  deism, 
but  did  not  prevent  him  becom- 
ing an  atheist.  His  belief  in  Chris- 
tianity, under  the  circumstances, 
must  have  been  only  of  a  very  so-so 
nature.  And  that  is  confirmed  by  a 
writer  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  for 
January,  when  he  says : — "  It  seems, 
from  an  inquiry  which  has  been 
made  in  the  University  Library  of 
Edinburgh,  that  the  books  he  was 
most  given  to  read  there  were  of  a 
sceptical  character."  * 

At  any  stage  of  his  instruction 
James  Mill  could  have  declined  the 
patronage  of  the  ladies  that  be- 
friended him,  without  avowing  his 
infidelity  or  atheism,  and  betaken 
himself  to  many  a  calling  in  which 
opinions  on  religion  were  not  re- 
quired, or  expected  to  be  expressed 
or  entertained,  and  earned  his  bread 
like  an  honest  man.  But  he  seems 
to  have  preferred  acting  the  hypo- 
crite for  the  benefit  of  the  educa- 
tion and  worldly  advancement,  il- 
lustrating, in  some  respects,  a  case 
given  by  him  to  his  son, 

*  This  was  doubtless  when  he  was 
studying  literature  and  philosophy,  dur- 
ing the  first  four  years  he  was  at  College 
and  before  he  entered  the  Divinity  Hall. 


HIS  RELIGION. 


"  In  which  frankness  on  these  sub- 
jects would  either  risk  the  loss  of  means 
of  subsistence,  or  would  amount  to  ex- 
clusion from  some  sphere  of  usefulness 
peculiarly  suitable  to  the  capacities  of 
the  individual  "  (p.  45). 

It  was  after  finally  breaking  with 
the  Church,  perhaps  in  consequence 
of  disappointment  of  a  benefice, 
and  of  the  restraint  on  his  godless 
opinions,  that  he  gave  vent  to  all 
his  spitefulness  against  religion  of 
every  kind,  natural  as  well  as  re- 
vealed ;  although  all  his  intellectual 
training  was  received,  as  a  gift,  under 
its  auspices,  with  the  view  of  mak- 
ing him  a  servant  at  its  altar ;  and 
but  for  which  training  he  might  have 
passed  through  life  an  atheistical 
master-baker,  a  heartless  West  India 
slave-driver,  or  something  of  that 
kind.  It  sounds  odd  to  hear  it  said 
that  he  was  once  "  among  the  pro- 
phets." Like  a  certain  personage, 
he  "  went  out  from  them  because  he 
was  not  of  them."  It  would  have 
been  interesting  had  his  son  publish- 
ed, among  his  writings,  the  written 
trial  discourses  which  he  preached 
before  the  Presbytery  when  it 
licensed  him,  and  solemnly  set  him 
apart,  to  defend  that  Christianity 
which  he  spent  his  life  in  attempt- 
ing to  destroy,  and  perhaps  swore 
his  son  to  do  it  after  him.  Here 
was  verily  a  "  wolf  in  sheep's  cloth- 
ing." As  it  was,  the  Church  nar- 
rowly escaped  receiving  into  its  fold, 
not  by  climbing  over  the  wall,  but 
boldly  entering  it  by  the  door,  like 
a  shepherd,  one  who  was  in  reality 
"  a  thief  and  a  robber."  *  And  yet 
he  is  described  by  his  son  as 

"  Being  not  only  a  man  whom  noth- 
ing would  have  induced  to  write  against 

*  The  following  remarks,  made  by  Dr. 
Thomas  Guthrie  in  his  Autobiography, 
on  the  subject  of  ministers  being  ap- 
pointed by  patrons,  are  interesting  as 
bearing  on  the  case  of  James  Mill : — 

"This  system,  so  far  as  students  were 
concerned,  had  but  one  redeeming  fea- 
ture. Through  it,  boorish  cubs  were 
licked  into  shape,  and  vulgarly-bred  lads 
acquired  the  manners  of  gentlemen  ;  for 


his  convictions  [excepting  in  the  case  of 
India],  but  one  who  invariably  threw 
into  everything  he  wrote  as  much  of  his 
convictions  as  he  thought  the  circum- 
stances would  in  any  way  permit "  (p. 
4)  ;  and  than  whom  "  no  one  prized 
conscientiousness  and  rectitude  of  inten- 
tion more  highly,  or  was  more  incapa- 
ble of  valuing-  any  person  in  whom  he 
did  not  feel  assurance  of  it "  (p.  50). 

Shortly  after  his  arrival  in  Lon- 
don, he  began  to  write  his  "  History 
of  India,"  a  work  which  has  been 
described  as  "  an  elaborate  inculpa- 
tion of  the  entire  policy  pursued  by 
the  East  India  Company.  He  be- 
lieved that  the  ruling  motives  of  the 
body,  from  almost  the  first  hour  of 
its  existence,  were  commercial  cu- 
pidity, and  a  desire  of  territorial 
aggrandizement"  {Athcnaum).  "A 
constant  attempt  to  underrate  the 
services  and  conceal  the  great 
achievements  of  the  East  India 
Company  "  (Bfackwood}.  Offen- 
sive as  John  Stuart  Mill  described 
this  work  to  be,  as  calculated,  in 
short,  to  raise  up  against  him  noth- 


most  of  those  who  had  the  ministry 
in  view  could  obtain  the  favour  of  a 
patron  in  no  other  way  than  by  becoming 
tutors  in  gentlemen's  and  noblemen's 
families.  Few  had  the  political  influence 
which  made  it  unnecessary  for  me  to  seek 
access  to  the  Church  in  that  way.  The 
consequence  was,  that  almost  all  divinity 
students  were  eager  to  get  tutorships.  In 
this  capacity — entering  the  houses  of 
landed  gentlemen,  associating  there  with 
people  of  cultivated  habits,  and  becom- 
ing in  a  sense  members  of  the  family — 
they,  however  humble  their  origin,  ac- 
quired those  courteous  and  genteel  man- 
ners which  were  more  the  characteristic 
of  the  ministers  of  my  early  days  than 
they  are  of  their  successors  "  (p.  56). 

Did  Mill  become,  "  for  a  few  years,"  a 
"  private  tutor  in  various  families  in 
Scotland,  among  others  that  of  the  Mar- 
quis of  Tweeddale,"  for  the  purpose  of 
getting  a  church  through  their  influence, 
as  Dr.  Guthrie  says  that  "  most  of  those 
who  had  the  ministry  in  view"  did  ?  And 
then  the  question  would  arise,  when  did 
he  "satisfy  himself  that  he  could  not  be- 
lieve the  doctrines  of  that  or  any  other 
Church"?  View  the  subject  in  anyway 
we  may,  little  regard  can  be  had  for  his 
judgment  or  character  under  the  circum- 
stances. 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


ing  but  enemies  in  powerful  quar- 
ters, and  especially  in  the  East  India 
Company,  "  to  whose  commercial 
privileges  he  was  unqualifiedly  hos- 
tile, and  on  the  acts  of  whose 
government  he  had  made  so  many 
severe  comments,"  but  bearing  testi- 
mony to  (what  could  not  be  denied) 
its  "  good  intentions  towards  its  sub- 
jects," his  father  yet  made  a  rush 
to  the  Company,  on  hearing  that  it 
wanted  clerks,  with  an  offer  of  his 
services,  which  were  accepted.  He 
became  one  of  its  most  devoted 
servants,  and,  in  his  hard  struggle 
for  existence,  had  bread  provided, 
and  a  nest  feathered,  for  himself, 
and  his  son  after  him.  The  Com- 
pany had  evidently  sense  enough  to 
receive  the  smart  adventurer  as  a 
satellite,  rather  than  allow  him  to 
become  a  thorn  in  its  side,  by  at- 
tacking it  through  the  press  of  the 
country.  Both  father  and  son  were 
the  strongest  defenders,  as  well  as 
the  servants  and  advisers,  of  a  cor- 
poration of  merchants  which  exer- 
cised a  rule  the  most  absolute  that 
perhaps  ever  existed,  over  a  vast 
territory  and  population  that  had  no 
voice  in  its  government,  in  the  face 
of  the  published  writings  of  both  on 
the  rights  of  man,  and  of  their  indi- 
viduality in  the  choice  of  legislators. 
Well  might  a  writer  in  the  Edin- 
burgh Review,  for  January,  say  : — 

"  Had  Mill  not  been  a  servant  of  the 
East  India  Company  it  is  impossible  to 
doubt  that  he  would  have  denounced  it 
as  one  of  the  most  odious  of  monopo- 
lies and  close  corporations,  which  held 
in  subjection  and  bondage  tens  of  mil- 
lions of  the  human  race." 

And  what  Blackwood1  s  Magazine, 
for  the  same  month,  says,  is  equally 
to  the  point : — 

"  Mill  never,  during  his  whole  thirty- 
five  years  [service  with  the  Company], 
opened  his  mouth  against  it,  [but  main- 
tained to  the  last]  that  any  change  from 
such  a  system  '  would  necessarily  be  a 
change  for  the  worse.' " 

And  Mill  says  of  himself:  — 

"  I  was  the  chief  manager  of  the  re- 


sistance which  the  Company  made  to 
their  own  political  extinction  ;  and  to 
the  letters  and  petitions  I  wrote  for 
them,  and  the  concluding  chapter  of 
my  treatise  on  Representative  Govern- 
ment [everywhere  but  in  India],  I  must 
refer  for  my  opinions  on  the  folly  and 
mischief  of  this  ill-considered  change  " 
(p.  249). 

A  man  like  James  Mill  was  sure 
to  impress  on  his  son  the  same  ret- 
icence in  regard  to  religion  that  he 
exercised  himself,  and  with  the  fol- 
lowing result : — 

"This  point  in  my  early  education 
had,  however,  incidentally  one  bad  con- 
sequence deserving-  notice.  In  giving 
me  an  opinion  contrary  to  that  of  the 
world,  my  father  thought  it  necessary 
to  give  it  as  one  which  could  not  pru- 
dently be  avowed  to  the  world.  This 
lesson  of  keeping  my  thoughts  to  my- 
self, at  that  early  age,  was  attended 
with  some  moral  disadvantages ;  though 
my  limited  intercourse  with  strangers, 
especially  such  as  were  likely  to  speak 
to  me  on  religion,  prevented  me  from 
being  placed  in  the  alternative  of  avowal 
or  hypocrisy.  I  remember  two  occa- 
sions in  my  boyhood  on  which  I  felt 
myself  in  this  alternative,  and  in  both 
cases  I  avowed  my  disbelief  and  de- 
fended it.  My  opponents  were  boys, 
considerably  older  than  myself:  one  of 
them  I  certainly  staggered  at  the  time, 
but  the  subject  was  never  renewed  be- 
tween us  :  the  other,  who  was  surprised 
and  somewhat  shocked,  did  his  best  to 
convince  me  for  some  time,  without 
effect"  (p.  44). 

He  seems  to  have  been  proud  of 
his  atheism,  as  if  it  had  been  that 
of  an  aristocratic  distinction,  for 
thus  he  writes  : — 

"  I  am  thus  one  of  the  very  few  ex- 
amples in  this  country  of  one  who  has 
not  thrown  off  religious  belief,  but 
never  had  it :  I  grew  up  in  a  negative 
state  with  regard  to  it.  I  looked  upon  the 
modern  exactly  as  I  did  upon  the  an- 
cient religion,  as  something  which  in  no 
way  concerned  me.  It  did  not  seem  to 
me  more  strange  that  English  people 
should  believe  what  I  did  not,  than  that 
the  men  I  read  of  in  Herodotus  should 
have  done  so  "  (p  43). 

He  had  already  said,  as  we  have 


HIS  RELIGION 


73 


seen,  that  he  "  was  brought  up  from 
the  first  without  any  religious  be- 
lief, in  the  ordinary  acceptation  of  the 
term  "  (p.  38),  which  qualification 
had  evidently  no  meaning,  as  he 
afterwards  said  he  never  had  any  (p. 
43).  This  is  supported  by  what  he 
says  when  he  speaks  of 

" — A  view  of  religion  which  I  hold  to 
be  profoundly  immoral — that  it  is  our 
duty  to  bow  down  in  worship  before  a  Be- 
ing whose  moral  attributes  are  affirmed 
to  be  unknowable  by  us,  and  to  be  per- 
haps extremely  different  from  those 
which,  when  we  are  speaking  of  our 
fellow-creatures,  we  call  by  the  same 
name  "  (p.  275).* 

He  was  well  drilled  by  his  father, 
who  seems  to  have  made  it  a  matter 
of  conscience  to  do  so,  for  he  says : — 

"  It  would  have  been  wholly  incon- 
sistent with  my  father's  ideas  of  duty 
to  allow  me  to  acquire  impressions 
contrary  to  his  convictions  and  feelings 
respecting  religion  "  (p.  42). 

Doubtless  he  treated  with  "  scornful 
disapprobation  "  and  "  stern  repre- 
hension," and  positively  prohibited, 
any  attempt  of  the  poor  mother, 
whom  he  kept  in  absolute  subjec- 
tion, to  teach  any  of  her  large 
family  to  even  lisp  a  prayer.  There 
must  be  a  reason  for  Mill  not  even 
mentioning  her,  or  any  of  his  bro- 
thers or  sisters,  beyond  the  trouble 
he  had  in  teaching  them ;  and  it 
would  be  interesting  to  know  how 
they  turned  out  in  regard  to  reli- 
gion. His  own  history  shows  that 
it  is  possible  to  "  breed  and  raise  " 
practical  atheists-f  It  may  be  that 

*  This  is  strange  language  to  come 
from  a  man  who  said  that  he  "  never  had 
any  religious  belief."  Of  course,  it  would 
have  been  out  of  the  question  to  have 
asked  him  to  give  us  a  "  view  of  religion" 
that  was  "  profoundly  moral,"  or  state 
where  he  found  his  ideas  of  morality  on 
that  or  any  other  subject. 

f  There  was  something  horrible  in 
James  Mill's  course  in  this  respect,  if  we 
judge  him  by  his  class,  irrespective  of  its 
shades  of  unbelief;  for  such  often,  if  not 
generally,  teach  the  children  nothing  in 
regard  to  religion  (and  would  sometimes 


his  father,  looking  on  him  as  "  the 
apple  of  his  eye,"  the  heir  and  suc- 
cessor of  himself  and  creed,  or 
rather  want  of  a  creed,  let  the  rest  of 
the  family  "  run  "  in  the  matter  of 
the  important  question  of  religion ; 
about  which  Mill,  with  apparent 
want  of  candour,  says  nothing.  And 
yet  we  might  have  expected  him  to 
have  informed  us  on  that  point, 
since  he  dwelt  on  the  subject  at 
such  length,  returning  again  and 
again  to  it.  The  conclusion  to  be 
drawn  from  his  father  so  jealously 
preventing  him  being  taught  any- 
thing on  the  subject  of  religion  by 
others  would  be,  that  the  rest  of 
the  family  were  brought  up  in  the 
same  way.  The  father  "  rejected  all 
that  is  called  religious  belief"  (p. 
39).  "He  regarded  it  with  the 
feeling  due  not  to  a  mere  mental 
delusion,  but  to  a  great  moral  evil. 
He  looked  upon  it  as  the  greatest 
enemy  to  morality,"  and  as  "  radi- 
cally vitiating  the  standard  of 
morals "  (p.  40) ;  without  saying 
what  that  standard  of  morals  is,  or 
where  it  is  to  be  found,  or  how  it 
can  be  made  binding  on  men. 

"  He  was  supremely  indifferent  in 
opinion  (though  his  indifference  did  not 
show  itself  in  personal  conduct)  to  all 
those  doctrines  of  the  common  morality 
which  he  thought  had  no  foundation 
but  in  asceticism  and  priestcraft "  (p. 
107).  "  And  thus  [says  his  son]  morality 
continues  a  matter  of  blind  tradition  [!], 
with  no  consistent  principle,  nor  even 
any  consistent  feeling,  to  guide  it  "  (p. 
42),  [like  Maurice's]  "worthless  heap 
of  received  opinions  on  the  great  sub- 
jects of  thought  "  (p.  153).* 

wish  that  they  rather  were  religious)  but 
leave  that  question  to  the  mother,  or  let 
the  children  pick  up  a  creed  of  any  kind, 
or  in  any  way  acquired.  Often,  when 
closely  pressed,  they  will  say  that  their 
soul  is  like  the  dove  that  could  find  no 
rest  for  the  sole  of  its  foot. 

*  The  reader  will  feel  it  difficult,  or 
rather  impossible,  to  put  a  meaning  on 
the  language  quoted. — Take  the  last  six 
commandments  in  the  Decalogue,  for 
our  negative  morality,  and  the  many  in- 
junctions, both  negative  and  positive, 
scattered  through  the  New  Testament, 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


Well  might  the  son  say  of  the  fa- 
ther's religious  opinions,  at  least, 
that  they  "were  more  odious  to  all 
persons  of  influence,  and  to  the 
common  run  of  prosperous  English- 
men, in  that  generation,  than  either 
before  or  since  "  (p.  4). 

He  seems  to  have  profited  by  his 
father's  instructions  to  the  extent,  at 
least,  of  keeping  his  religious  opin- 
ions pretty  much  to  himself,  so  that 
to  the  last  people  were  in  doubt  on 
the  subject ;  and  on  the  occasion  of 
standing  for  Westminster  he  says : — 

"  On  one  subject  only — my  religious 
opinions — I  announced  from  the  begin- 
ning that  I  would  answer  no  questions  " 
(P-  283)- 

Thus  he  seems  to  have  gone  through 
life  muzzled  on  that  question,  except 
perhaps  to  very  intimate  friends,  of 
his  own  way  of  thinking,  and  with 
the  strictest  confidence ;  but  in 
writing  the  Autobiography  he  re- 
moved the  muzzle,  and  expressed 
himself  with  all  the  pent-up  hydro- 
phobia of  his  nature,  after  so  long  a 
silence  on  a  subject  that  lay  nearest 
to  his  heart,  as  the  work  shows; 
leaving  it  as  a  legacy  to  the  world 
at  large,  and  perhaps  particularly 
to  the  University  of  St.  Andrews, 
"  whose  students  had  done  me  the 
honour  of  electing  me  to  the  office 
of  Rector"  (p.  306) ;  and  hounding 
on  others  in  the  same  cause,  for  this 
is  his  posthumous  wish  on  the  sub- 
ject : — 

"  On  religion  in  particular,  the  time 
appears  to  me  to  have  come  when  it  is 
the  duty  of  all  who,  being  qualified  in 
point  of  knowledge  [which  he  doubtless 
never  was],  have  on  mature  considera- 
tion satisfied  themselves  [which  he  ap- 
parently never  did]  that  the  current 

such  as  can  be  literally  acted  up  to,  or 
contemplated  and  brooded  over  for  the 
divine  spirit  they  inculcate,  and  it  would 
be  almost  impossible  to  find  a  candid  or 
sane  man  that  would  object  to  them.  The 
inconsistency,  even  absurdity,  running 
through  the  writings  of  both  the  Mills,  is 
very  manifest  here  :  in  the  elder  for  not 
practising,  as  is  alleged,  what  he  preach- 
ed ;  and  in  the  younger  for  speaking  of 


opinions  are  not  only  false  but  hurtful 
[how  did  he  know  that  the  religion  it- 
self wasfatse  or  hurtful  ?],  to  make  their 
dissent  known  "  (p.  45).  And  he  barbs 
his  prayer  with  the  remark  :  "  At  least 
if  they  are  among  those  whose  station 
or  reputation  gives  their  opinion  a 
chance  of  being  attended  to." 

He  did  not  seem  to  be  averse  to 
any  kind  of  allies,  whoever  or  what- 
ever they  might  be,  that  would  en- 
list under  a  common  banner  in  a 
crusade  to  banish  both  natural  and 
revealed  religion  from  the  world ; 
but  he  would  prefer  the  influential 
kinds,  of  whom  he  probably  speaks 
a  little  at  random  when  he  says  : — 

"  The  world  would  be  astonished  if  it 
knew  how  great  a  proportion  [what 
proportion  he  does  not  say]  of  its  highest 
ornaments — of  those  most  distinguished 
even  in  popular  estimation  for  wisdom 
and  virtue — are  complete  sceptics  in 
religion  [not  atheists,  like  himself,  it  is 
hoped]  ;  many  of  them  refraining  from 
avowal,  less  from  personal  considera- 
tions than  from  a  conscientious,  though 
now  in  my  opinion  a  most  mistaken,  ap- 
prehension, lest  by  speaking  out  what 
would  tend  to  weaken  existing  belief, 
and  by  consequence  (as  they  suppose) 
existing  restraints,  they  should  do  harm 
instead  of  good"  (p.  45). 

The  people  here  mentioned  are, 
by  Mill's  own  admission,  too  sensi- 
ble to  make  any  other  use  of  their 
religious  opinions  than  keep  them  to 
themselves;  and  little  chance  is 
there  of  them  ever  ranging  them- 
selves under  his  standard  in  a  war 
against  what  mankind  hold,  in  some 
form  or  other,  most  sacred.  No 
matter  what  all  mankind  might  feel, 
think,  or  say  to  the  contrary,  Mill 
would  insist  on  it  that  religion  is  an 
excrescence  that  ought  to  be  abolish- 
ed, even  when  it  is  said,  that  if  there 


the  "great  subjects  of  thought,"  when  he 
ignored  what  are  really  such — God,  our 
souls,  and  the  aspiration  towards,  and  be- 
lief in,  a  future  state. — The  Mills  would 
not  advance  what  they  considered  moral- 
ity, nor,  as  I  have  stated  above,  say 
"  where  it  is  to  be  found,  or  how  it  can  be 
made  binding  on  men,"  if  the  morality 
contained  in  the  Decalogue  and  New 
Testament  is  to  be  rejected. 


HIS  RELIGION. 


were  no  God,  it  would  be  necessary 
to  invent  one,  to  assist  in  keeping 
mankind  in  order,  for  thus  he  de- 
scribes a  work  of  Comte  : — 

"  The  only  value  it  seems  to  me  to 
possess  consists  in  putting  an  end  [?]  to 
the  notion  that  no  effectual  moral  au- 
thority can  be  maintained  over  society 
without  the  aid  of  religious  belief"  (p. 
213). 

Mill  advises  those  "  who,  being 
qualified  in  point  of  knowledge, 
have  on  mature  consideration  satis- 
fied themselves  that  the  current 
opinions  are  not  only  false  but  hurt- 
ful, to  make  their  dissent  known " 
on  the  subject  of  religion.  It  would 
be  interesting  to  have  their  religion 
(if  they  have  any)  explained  to  man- 
kind, with  the  authority  they  have  to 
support  it;  and  greatly  so  to  have 
been  told  what  Mill  wished  to  be 
done  to  improve  the  state  of  things 
he  found  existing  around  him. 
Even  with  the  better  kinds  of 
sceptics,  we  generally,  if  not  almost 
invariably,  find  that  they  have  never 
investigated  the  origin  or  nature  of 
the  religion  they  object  to.  Thus  in 
the  case  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  who, 
when  asked  by  Dr.  Ezra  Stiles  for  his 
opinion  concerning  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth, replied,  when  in  his  85th 
year : — 

"  I  think  his  system  of  morals  and  his 
religion,  as  he  left  them  to  us,  the  best 
the  world  ever  saw  or  is  like  to  see  ;  but 
I  apprehend  it  has  received  various  cor- 
rupting changes  [he  does  not  say  what 
these  are],  and  I  have,  with  most  of  the 
present  Dissenters  in  England  [?],  some 
doubts  as  to  his  Divinity  ;  though  it  is  a 
question  I  do  not  dogmatize  upon,  hav- 
ing never  studied  it,  and  think  it  need- 
less to  busy  myself  with  it  now,  when  I 
expect  soon  an  opportunity  of  knowing 
the  truth  with  less  trouble.  I  see  no 
harm,  however,  in  its  being  believed,  if 
that  belief  has  the  good  consequence,  as 
probably  it  has,  of  making  his  doctrines 
more  respected  and  more  observed  ;  es- 
pecially as  I  do  not  perceive  that  the 
Supreme  takes  it  amiss,  by  distinguish- 
ing the  unbelievers  in  his  government 


of  the  world  with  any  peculiar  marks  of 
his  displeasure."  (Par -ton,  //.,  615.*) 
[Ben.  would  have  a  theory  of  his  own, 
Scripture  or  no  Scripture.] 

What  Mill  wrote  of  Comte  in  re- 
gard to  political,  social  and  physical 
things,  is  somewhat  applicable  to  the 
Christian  religion,  in  the  case  of 
sceptics  who  have  "never  studied 
it:" — 

"  I  had  fully  agreed  with  him  when  he 
maintained  that  the  mass  of  mankind, 
including  even  the  rulers  in  all  the  prac- 
tical departments  of  life,  must,  from  the 
necessity  of  the  case,  accept  most  of 
their  opinions  on  political  and  social 
matters,  as  they  do  on  physical,  from  the 
authority  of  those  who  have  bestowed 
more  study  on  those  subjects  than  they 
generally  have  it  in  their  power  to  do  " 
(p.  212). 


*  The  creed  given  by  Franklin  on 
this  occasion  is  interesting,  but  it  must 
be  remembered  it  was  inhaled  from  the 
Christian  religious  and  moral  atmos- 
phere in  which  he  was  born  and  reared  ; 
and  it  may,  on  that  account,  be  called  a 
pretty  piece  of  Christian  Paganism.  He 
says : — 

"  Here  is  my  creed.  I  believe  in  one 
God,  the  Creator  of  the  universe.  That 
he  governs  it  by  his  providence.  That  he 
ought  to  be  worshipped.  That  the  most 
acceptable  service  we  render  to  him  is 
doing  good  to  his  other  children.  That 
the  soul  of  man  is  immortal  and  will  be 
treated  with  justice  in  another  life,  re- 
specting its  conduct  in  this.  These  I  take 
to  be  the  fundamental  points  in  all  sound 
religion,  and  I  regard  them  as  you  do,  in 
whatever  sect  I  meet  with  them." 

As  he  approached  the  very  close  of  his 
life,  he  thus  reasoned  with  a  friend  : — 

"  Death  is  as  necessary  to  the  constitu- 
tion as  sleep ;  we  shall  rise  refreshed  in 
the  morning.  The  course  of  nature  must 
soon  put  a  period  to  my  present  mode  of 
existence.  This  I  shall  submit  to  with  the 
less  regret,as  having  seen  during  a  long  life 
a  good  deal  of  this  world,  I  feel  a  grow- 
ing curiosity  to  become  acquainted  with 
some  other  ;  and  can  cheerfully,  with  filial 
confidence,  resign  my  spirit  to  the  conduct 
of  that  great  and  good  Parent  of  mankind 
who  created  it,  and  who  has  so  graciously 
protected  and  preserved  me  from  my 
birth  to  the  present  hour." 

There  is  a  good  deal  of  the  "Red 
Indian"  in  Franklin's  ideas  about  relig- 
ion. He  speaks  of  the  soul  of  man  being 
"treated  with  justice,"  which.it  is  pre- 
sumed, would  include  punishment. 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


Mill  says  of  his  father,  that, 

"  After  many  struggles,  he  yielded  to 
the  conviction,  that  concerning  the  ori- 
gin of  things,  nothing  whatever  can  be 
known  "  (p.  39)  ;  and  that  "  he  impress- 
ed upon  me  from  the  first,  that  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  world  came  into  exist- 
ence, was  a  subject  on  which  nothing 
was  known  "  (p.  42). 

There  was  no  necessity  for  any 
"  struggles  "  in  a  matter  of  this  kind, 
or  "  impressing  "  such  a  conviction 
upon  anyone,  for  anyone  a  very  little 
instructed  in  the  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity is  well  aware  of  the  fact,  that 
the  mind  is  a  perfect  blank  on  that 
subject;  and  that  the  information 
wanted  can  be  found  only  in  the  Old 
and  New  Testaments.  It  would  have 
been  of  more  importance  to  have 
been  told  when  James  Mill  under- 
went the  struggles  mentioned.  Read- 
ers of  the  classics,  like  the  Mills, 
could  have  found  the  same  truth 
well  stated  by  Socrates,  when  he 
said : — 

"  Regarding  celestial  matters,  he  dis- 
suaded his  disciples  from  becoming  sub- 
tile speculators  regarding  the  way  the 
Deity  contrived  each  of  them.  For  he 
considered  that  this  could  never  be  dis- 
covered by  man  ;  nor  did  he  believe 
that  he  acted  gratefully  to  God,  who 
scrutinized  such  points  as  he  did  not 
wish  to  make  clearly  known.  He  said, 
moreover,  that  he  was  in  danger  of 
losing  his  senses,  who  turned  his  mind 
anxiously  upon  these  investigations,  just 
as  Anaxagoras  lost  his  reason,  who 
prided  himself  most  in  explaining  by 
the  power  of  his  reason  the  plans  of 
the  deities." — Zenophon's  Memorabilia, 
English  translation,  p.  203. 

There  is  no  evidence  whatever  to 
show  that  Mill  ever  examined  the 
subject  of  religion  in  even  the  most 
crude  form  of  its  natural  aspects  : 
he  seems  merely  to  have  echoed  his 
father's  sentiments,  imbibed  from 
him  when  a  child,  excepting  that  at 
that  stage  of  his  "  intellectual  and 
moral  development,"  he  tells  us 
"  that  he  at  the  same  time  took  care 
that  I  should  be  acquainted  with 
what  had  been  thought  by  mankind 


on  these  impenetrable  problems " 
(p.  43) ;  which  is  decidedly  incon- 
sistent with  what  he  had  just  said, 
that  "  it  would  have  been  wholly 
inconsistent  with  my  father's  ideas 
of  duty  to  allow  me  to  acquire  im- 
pressions contrary  to  his  convictions 
and  feelings  respecting  religion" 
(p.  42).  Mill  the  younger,  in  par- 
ticular, seems  to  have  lacked  the 
faculty  for  feeling  or  judging  on 
that  subject;  he  certainly  never  had 
any  religious  belief,  as  he  admitted  ; 
so  that  it  sounds  strange  to  hear  him 
calling  for  a  crusade  against  a  sub- 
ject about  which  he  allows  that 
"  nothing  whatever  can  be  known." 
And  it  seems  as  strange  for  his  fa- 
ther to  speak  of  religion  as  being 
"  not  only  false,  but  hurtful  "  (p.  45) ; 
and  that  "  the  most  perfect  concep- 
tion of  wickedness  which  the  human 
mind  can  devise,"  is  "  embodied  in 
what  is  commonly  presented  to  man- 
kind as  the  creed  of  Christianity  " 
(p.  41)  ;  in  which  he  was  educated, 
at  the  expense  of  other  people,  and 
most  solemnly  promised,  at  the  age 
of  twenty-five,  to  preach  and  defend. 
The  proper  attitude  to  be  assumed 
by  such  a  mind  as  Mill's  towards  the 
phenomena  of  animated  and  inani- 
mated  nature,  was  to  drift  quietly 
through  life,  looking  at  everything  it 
met  with,  with  the  eye  of  a  dumb 
animal.  Even  in  the  ordinary  af- 
fairs of  life,  a  little  degree  of  reason 
and  personal  dignity  should  teach 
us  to  call  nothing  wrong  unless  we 
can  show  that  it  is  wrong,  and  sub- 
stitute something  better  for  it ; 
for  how  can  a  person  say  that  a 
thing  is  wrong  without  doing  that  ? 
Mill,  in  his  so  frequently,  so  persist- 
ently, and  so  prominently  bringing 
his  atheism  before  the  world,  resem- 
bled, at  least  in  principle,  the  most 
common-placed,  the  most  vulgar- 
minded  (one  might  say  blackguard) 
infidel,  who  does  it  with  everyone, 
and  on  all  occasions  (except  when 
his  personal  interests  would  suffer, 
and  then  he  keeps  very  quiet  on  the 
subject),  as  if  it  were  a  thing  that 


HIS  RELIGION. 


77 


could  not  rest  on  his  mind,  but  must 
be  thrown  up,  as  a  great  relief  to 
himself,  and  a  positive  nuisance  to 
others.  But  in  his  case,  he  skulked 
through  life  like  a  thief,  a  conspira- 
tor, or  an  assassin,  afraid  of  being 
apprehended  by  every  one  he  met 
with,  and  only  after  his  death,  left 
his  secret  to  the  world.  Fortunate- 
ly, he  had  no  knowledge  of  poison- 
ing as  one  of  the  fine  arts,  for  he  has 
presented  his  drug  in  such  a  form 
and  quantity,  that  both  palate  and 
stomach  will  reject  it,  to  say  nothing 
of  its  being  correctly  labeled. 

John  Stuart  Mill,  however,  had  a 
religion,  or  rather  two  religions,  al- 
though he  does  not  say  that  he  had 
them  at  the  same  time.  The  first 
one  he  acquired  by  reading  the 
Traite  de  Legislation,  and  it  is  thus 
described : 

"  I  now  had  opinions  ;  a  creed,  a  doc- 
trine, a  philosophy  ;  in  one  among  the 
best  senses  of  the  word,  a  religion  ;  the 
inculcation  and  diffusion  of  which  could 
be  made  the  principal  outward  purpose 
of  a  life.  And  I  had  a  grand  [Utopian] 
conception  laid  before  me  of  changes  to 
be  effected  in  the  condition  of  mankind 
through  that  doctrine  "  (p.  67). 

All  of  *  which,  as  we  shall  see, 
"  went  by  the  board  "  when  he  fell 
into  the  dumps,  and  was  like  to 
have  made  away  with  himself. 

He  makes  several  allusions,  in 
very  indefinite  language,  to  religion 
among  freethinkers,  the  best  of  them 
being  "  more  genuinely  religious,  in 
the  best  sense  of  the  word  religion, 
than  those  who  exclusively  arrogate 
to  themselves  the  title "  (p.  46) ; 
such  religion  standing  "for  any 
graces  of  character,  and  not  for 
mere  dogma"  (as  if  any  one  asserted 
that  religion  consisted  in  '  mere 
dogma'),  and  being  "an  ideal  con- 
ception of  a  perfect  being  to  which 
they  habitually  refer  as  the  guide  of 
their  conscience  "  ;  who  is  neither 
the  creator,  preserver,  nor  governor 
of  the  world,  whose  habitation  is 
nowhere  imagined,  whose  attributes 
are  not  conceivable  in  detail,  who 


exercises  no  control  over  man,  and 
who,  in  short,  has  no  existence  but 
in  the  imagination  of  the  creature, 
whose  ideal  will  vary  with  its  own 
personal  peculiarities.  But  this  is 
said  only  of  the  best  class  of  un- 
believers, and  is  not  advanced  as 
his  own  religion.  When  reviewing 
Comte,  he  expatiated  on  it  in  this 
manner : — 

"  Candid  persons  of  all  creeds  may 
be  willing  to  admit  [which  they  certainly 
do  not]  that  if  a  person  has  an  ideal 
object  [as  Mill  had  in  Mrs.  Taylor,  be- 
fore and  after  she  became  his  wife],  his 
attachment  and  sense  of  duty  towards 
which  are  able  to  control  and  discipline 
all  his  other  sentiments  and  propensities, 
and  prescribe  to  him  a  rule  of  life,  that 
person  has  a  religion  ;  and  though  every 
one  naturally  prefers  his  own  religion  to 
any  other,  all  must  admit,  that  if  the 
object  of  his  attachment,  and  of  this 
feeling  of  duty,  is  the  aggregate  of  our 
fellow  -  creatures  [Bentham's  dogma, 
'  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number '],  this  religion  of  the  infidel 
cannot  in  honesty  and  conscience  be 
called  an  intrinsically  bad  one  "  [for  the 
simple  reason  that,  having  no  reference 
to  the  Creator,  it  is  no  religion  at  all]. 

Mill's  other  religion  sprung  from 
the  death  of  Mrs.  Taylor,  who  be- 
came his  wife  after  a  friendship  of 
twenty-one  years,  while  the  wife  of 
another  man,  and  of  whom  we  shall 
have  something  further  to  say.  It  is 
thus  described  : — 

"  Her  memory  is  to  me  a  religion,  and 
her  approbation  the  standard  by  which, 
summing  up  as  it  does  all  worthiness,  I 
endeavour  to  regulate  my  life  "  (p.  251) 

He  does  not  say  that  she  had  any 
religion  beyond  the  very  indefinite 
and  untrustworthy  one,  that  may 
mean  anything,  of  a 

"  Complete  emancipation  from  every 
kind  of  superstition  [such  as  ?]  (includ- 
ing that  which  attributes  a  pretended 
perfection  to  the  order  of  nature  and 
the  universe),  and  an  earnest  protest 
against  many  things  [what  were  they  ?] 
which  are  still  part  of  the  established 
constitution  of  society,  .  .  .  with  a 
highly  reverential  nature"  (p.  186). 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


In  the  matter  of  religion,  as 
generally  understood,  they  were  ap- 
parently "birds  of  a  feather,"  al- 
though it  is  difficult  to  believe  that 
the  mother  of  children  could  be  an 
atheist,  when  we  remember  the  ex- 
clamation of  Eve,  on  the  birth  of 
Cain — an  instinct  common  to  wo- 
mankind— that  she  had  "gotten  a 
man  from  the  .  Lord."  God  the 
creator,  preserver,  and  governor,  was 
a  being  which  Mill  did  not  in  any 
way  recognize.  His  religion  was 
directed  to  his  goddess'  memory 
(and  memory  only)  ;  and  he  almost 
exhausted  the  English  language  in 
her  praises — praises  as  were  perhaps 
never  exceeded  by  the  heathen, 
when  addressing  their  ordinary 
deities.  Indeed,  he  confessed  his 
inability  to  fill  the  place  of  her  hiero- 
phant. 

To  both  the  Mills  the  following 
prayer  of  the  Pagan  Epictetus  would 
have  been  simply  an  abomina- 
tion : — 

"  If  death  overtakes  me  in  such  a 
situation,  it  is  enough  for  me  if  I  can 
stretch  out  my  hands  to  God,  and  say, 
'  The  opportunities  which  I  have  re- 
ceived from  thee  of  comprehending  and 
obeying  thy  administration,  I  have  not 
neglected.  As  far  as  in  me  lay,  I  have 
not  dishonoured  thee.  See  how  I  have 
used  my  perceptions ;  how  my  convic- 
tions. Have  I  at  any  time  found  fault 
with  thee?  Have  I  been  discontented 
at  thy  dispensations,  or  wished  them 
otherwise?  Have  I  transgressed  tha 
relations  of  life?  I  thank  thee  that 
thou  hast  brought  me  into  being.  I  am 
satisfied  with  the  time  that  I  ha7e  en- 
joyed the  things  which  thou  hast  given 
me.  Receive  them  back  again,  and 
distribute  them  as  thou  wilt ;  for  they 
were  all  thine,  and  thou  gavest  them  to 
me.'  " — Boston  Edition,  1865,  p.  357. 

And  the  following  letter  from 
another  Pagan,  Pliny  the  Consul, 
would  have  been  no  less  offensive  to 
them : — 

"  The  lingering  disorder  of  a  friend  of 
mine  gave  me  occasion  lately  to  reflect, 
that  we  are  never  so  virtuous  as  when 
afflicted  with  sickness.  Where  is  the 


man  who,  under  the  pain  of  any  distem- 
per, is  either  solicited  by  avarice  or  en- 
flamed  with  lust  ?  At  such  a  season  he 
is  neither  the  slave  of  love,  nor  the  fool 
of  ambition  ;  he  looks  with  indifference 
upon  the  charms  of  wealth,  and  is  con- 
tented with  ever  so  small  a  portion  of  it, 
as  being"  upon  the  point  of  leaving  even 
that  little.  It  is  then  he  recollects  there 
are  gods,  and  that  he  himself  is  but  a 
man  :  no  mortal  is  then  the  object  of  his 
envy,  his  admiration  or  his  contempt ; 
and  having  no  malice  to  gratify,  the  tales 
of  slander  excite  not  his  attention  ;  his 
dreams  run  only  upon  the  refreshment 
of  baths  and  fountains.  These  are  the 
supreme  objects  of  his  thoughts  and 
wishes,  while  he  resolves,  if  he  should 
recover,  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his 
days  disengaged  from  the  cares  and 
business  of  the  world  ;  that  is,  in  inno- 
cence and  happiness.  I  may  therefore 
lay  down  to  you  and  myself  a  short  rule, 
which  the  philosophers  have  endeavour- 
ed to  inculcate  at  the  expense  of  many 
words,  and  even  many  volumes,  that 
'  we  should  realize  in  health  those  reso- 
lutions we  form  in  sickness.' " — Pliny,  by 
Melmoth.  II.,  p.  48. 

This  letter  of  Pliny  is  certainly 
very  interesting  on  the  subject  of 
death,  when  he  says,  "  It  is  then  we 
recollect  there  are  gods " ;  while 
Marcus  Aurelius  says,  "  Since  it  is 
possible  that  thou  mayest*  depart 
this  life  this  very  moment,  regulate 
every  act  and  thought  accordingly"  : 
sentiments  that  would  have  no 
meaning  unless  they  referred  to 
what  St.  Paul  says  when  he  speaks 
of  men  being,  "  through  fear  of 
death,  all  their  life-time  subject  to 
bondage,"  in  consequence  of  it  be- 
ing "  appointed  unto  men  once  to 
die,  but  after  this  the  judgment." 
Among  the  more  intelligent  of  the 
heathen,  the  fear  of  future  punish- 
ment was  called  superstition,  and 
was  left  to  be  spoken  of  by  the  more 
ignorant  of  the  people,  however 
much  the  others  may  have  felt  with- 
out expressing  it,  or  however  much 
they  may  have  done  to  shake  the 
fear  off  them.  And  thus  it  was 
that  Plato  says  : — 

"  When  a  man  is  about  to  die.  the 
stories  of  future  punishment,  which  he 


HIS  RELIGION. 


had  formerly  ridiculed,  trouble  him  with 
fears  of  their  truth." — Republic,  lib.  I, 
chap.  5. 

I  may  give  some  more  of  the 
opinions  of  the  Pagan  philosophers 
on  the  subject  of  religion,  as  illus- 
trating what  human  nature,  apart 
from  revelation,  thought  on  that  im- 
portant question ;  premising  that 
St.  Paul  said  that  "the  world  by 
wisdom  knew  not  God,"  although 
its  instincts  were  cultivated  and  de- 
veloped in  that  direction ;  and  that 
it  is  only  in  Christianity  we  can 
find  his  nature  and  our  relations  to 
him  as  fully  explained  as  he  has 
been  pleased  to  do  it.  "  Whom 
therefore  ye  ignorantly  worship, 
him  declare  I  unto  you,"  said  the 
Apostle  to  the  philosophers  on 
Mars'  Hill,  in  a  city  characterized 
by  the  utmost  of  human  learning 
and  culture,  yet  "  wholly  given  to 
idolatry,"  as  history,  no  less  than 
Scripture,  assures  us. 

"  Concerning"  the  gods,  some  affirm 
that  there  is  no  Deity ;  others,  that  he 
indeed  exists,  but  is  slothful,  negligent, 
and  without  providential  care ;  a  third 
class  admits  both  his  being  and  his 
providence,  but  only  in  respect  to  great 
and  heavenly  objects,  not  earthly ;  a 
fourth  recognizes  him  both  in  heaven 
and  earth,  but  only  in  general,  not  in- 
dividual matters ;  a  fifth,  like  Ulysses  and 
Socrates,  says,  '  I  cannot  be  hid  from 
thee  in  any  of  my  motions.'  " — Epictetus, 
Boston,  1865,  p.  40. 

''  Do  you  expect  the  greatest  of  arts 
to  be  acquired  by  slight  endeavours? 
And  yet  the  principal  doctrine  of  the 
philosophers  is  in  itself  short.  If  you 
have  a  mind  to  know  it,  read  Zeno,  and 
you  will  see.  It  is  not  a  long  story  to 
say,  '  Our  end  is  to  serve  the  gods,'  and 
'  The  essence  of  good  consists  in  the 
proper  use  of  the  phenomena  of  exist- 
ence.' " — Id.,  p.  62. 

"  The  philosophers  say  that  we  are 
first  to  learn  that  there  is  a  God  ;  and 
that  his  providence  directs  the  whole  ; 
and  that  it  is  not  merely  impossible  to 
conceal  from  him  our  actions,  but  even 
our  thoughts  and  emotions." — Ib.,  p. 
136. 


79 

"  Amongst  all  mankind  the  first  natu- 
ral law  is  to  venerate  the  gods." — Socra- 
tes, by  Zenophon.  English  translation, 
p.  1 88. 

"  Things  grounded  on  moral  certainty 
from  the  common  assent  of  mankind,  as 
'  that  there  is  a  God  ;  that  parents  are  to 
be  honoured.'  " — Quintilian.  English 
translation,  I.,  p  285. 

"What  land,  what  sea  can  he  find 
where  God  is  not  ?  Wretched  and 
miserable  man  !  in  what  corner  of  the 
world  canst  thou  so  hide  thyself  as  to 
think  thou  hast  now  escaped  him  ?  " — • 
Plutarch 's  Morals,  by  Goodwin,  I.,  p. 
172. 

"  The  design  of  those  that  deny  a 
God  is  to  ease  themselves  of  his  fear." 
— Ib.,  p.  169. 

"  Here  then  you  see  the  foundation  of 
this  question  clearly  laid  ;  for  since  it  is 
the  constant  and  universal  opinion  of 
mankind,  independent  of  education, 
custom,  or  law,  that  there  are  gods,  it 
must  necessarily  follow  that  this  know- 
ledge is  implanted  in  our  minds,  or 
rather  innate  in  us,  .  .  .  .  for  in 
this  we  have  the  concurrence,  not  only 
of  almost  all  philosophers  [there  have 
always  been  atheists,  like  the  Mills],  but 
likewise  of  the  ignorant  and  illiterate. 
For  what  nation,  what  people  are  there 
who  have  not,  without  any  learning,  a 
natural  idea  or  premonition  of  a  Deity, 

that  is,  an  antecedent 

conception  of  the  fact  in  the  mind, 
without  which  nothing  can  be  under- 
stood, inquired  after,  or  discoursed  on." 
— Cicero  on  the  Nature  of  the  Gods,  by 
Younge,  p.  17. 

"  If  any  one  doubts  this,  I  really  do  not 
understand  why  the  same  man  may  not 
also  doubt  whether  there  is  a  sun  or  not. 
For  what  can  possibly  be  more  evident 
than  this  ?  And  if  it  were  not  a  truth 
universally  impressed  on  the  minds  of 
men,  the  belief  in  it  would  never  have 
been  so  firm ;  nor  would  it  have  been, 
as  it  is,  increased  by  length  of  years,  nor 
would  it  have  gathered  strength  and 
stability  through  every  age.  "  — Ib., 
p.  45.  "  That  there  are  gods,  is  never 
contested  but  by  the  most  impious  of 
men." — Ib.{  p.  107. 

"  Among  all  the  variety  of  animals, 
there  is  not  one  except  man  which  re- 
tains any  idea  of  a  Divinity.  And  among 
men  themselves,  there  is  no  nation  so 


8o 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


savage  and  ferocious  as  not  to  admit  the 
necessity  of  believing  in  a  God,  however 
ignorant  they  may  be  what  sort  of  God 
they  ought  to  believe  in.  From  whence 
we  conclude  that  every  man  must  recog- 
nize a  Deity,  who  has  any  recollection 
and  knowledge  of  his  own  origin." — 
Cicero  on  the  Laws,  by  Younge,  p.  409. 

"  In  truth  we  can  scarcely  reckon 
him  a  man  whom  neither  the  regular 
courses  of  the  stars,  nor  the  alterations 
of  day  and  night,  nor  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  seasons,  nor  the  productions 
that  nature  displays  for  his  use  and  en- 
joyment, urge  to  gratitude  towards 
heaven." — Ib.,  p.  434. 

Mill  says : — 

"  There  is  no  author  to  whom  my 
father  thought  himself  more  indebted 
for  his  own  mental  culture,  than  Plato, 
or  whom  he  more  frequently  recom- 
mended to  young  students.  I  can  bear 
similar  testimony  in  regard  to  myself" 
(p.  21).  "  My  father's  moral  convictions, 
wholly  dissevered  from  religion,  were 
very  much  of  the  character  of  those  of 

the   Greek  philosophers Even 

at  the  very  early  age  at  which  I  read 
with  him  the  Memorabilia  of  Zenophon, 
I  imbibed  from  that  work,  and  from  his 
comments,  a  deep  respect  for  the  char- 
acter of  Socrates,  who  stood  in  my  mind 

a  model  of  ideal  excellence At 

a  somewhat  later  period,  the  lofty  moral 
standard  exhibited  in  the  writings  of 
Plato  operated  upon  me  with  great 
force"  (p.  47). 

But  the  arguments  of  these  writers 
in  favour  of  the  Deity  and  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  seem  to  have  had 
no  effect  upon  either  of  them,  for 
they  read  their  writings  wholly  dis- 
severed from  religion.  And  the  same 
can  be  said  of  the  other  ancient  phi- 
losophers, excepting  that  his  father's 

"  Standard  of  morals  was  Epicurean, 
inasmuch  as  it  was  utilitarian,  taking  as 
the  exclusive  test  of  right  and  wrong  the 
tendency  of  actions  to  produce  pleasure 
or  pain  "  (p.  48),  and  of  his  own  stand- 
ard, he  says  ;  "  I  never,  indeed,  wavered 
in  the  conviction,  that  happiness  is  the 
test  of  all  rules  of  conduct,  and  the  end 
of  life  "  (p.  142). 

We  have  seen  how  Mill  seems  to 
have  merely  echoed  his  father's  ideas 


i  on  the  subject  of  religion  (with  the 
1  exception  that  his  wife's  memory 
became  one  to  him) ;  and  what  has 
been  just  quoted,  will  show  that  he 
did  the  same  in  regard  to  one  of  the 
practical  aspects  of  it.  On  both 
points  he  realized  the  homely  pro- 
verb, "  As  the  old  cock  crew,  the 
young  one  learned."  Their  "  stand- 
ards of  morals  "  are  singular  enough. 
We  find  in  them  no  reference  to 
duties,  or  virtue  for  its  own  sake, 
but  a  creed  which  might  be  extended 
to  embrace  the  most  swinish  or  the 
most  devilish  indulgences,  if  tempo- 
ral pleasure  and  happiness  are  the  only 
things  to  be  sought  after,  and  pain 
the  only  thing  to  be  avoided.  The 
old  Epicurean  creed,  "  Let  us  eat 
and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die," 
quoted  by  St.  Paul,  was  an  excellent 
one  when  compared  with  it,  for  that 
could  not  directly  injure  any  one  but 
him  following  it.  Had  we  been  told 
in  what  happiness  or  pleasure  and 
pain  consisted,  we  could  have  form- 
ed an  idea  of  how  far  the  pursuit  of 
the  one,  or  the  avoidance  of  the 
other,  was  allowable.  Our  duties  to 
God  and  man  are  the  only  real  ob- 
jects worthy  of  being  aimed  at, 
whatever  the  result ;  and  the  dis- 
charge of  these  is  not  likely  to  end 
in  real  pain,  whatever  of  that  we 
may  unavoidably  meet  with  in  this 
transitory  state.  In  the  creed  of 
the  Mills,  unexplained  as  it  is,  we 
can  find  no  moral  obligations  to 
mankind  individually,  but  merely 
the  caprices  or  passions  of  the  crea- 
ture, that  might  attach  to  any  action 
that  the  passing  moment  might  dic- 
tate. 

However  much  Mill  recanted  and 
recanted  again  his  opinions,  we  do 
not  find  him  canting  on  the  subject 
of  religion  (for  that  he  never  had), 
but  much  in  connection  with  the 
"aggregate  of  our  fellow-creatures," 
but  little  or  none  with  them  indi- 
vidually, and  of  which  the  following 
are  specimen  expressions  : — 

Commencement  of  a  new  era  in 
thought. 


HIS  RELIGION. 


8l 


Delight  in  virtue  or  the  public  good. 

Elevated  standard  of  excellence. 

Enthusiasm  for  ideal  nobleness. 

Excellence  for  its  own  sake. 

Fundamental  principles. 

Genuine  benevolence. 

Good  of  mankind. 

High  intellectual  and  moral  eminence. 

Human  improvement. 

Ideal  excellence. 

Ideal  nobleness. 

Intellectual  and  moral  development. 

Intrinsic  usefulness. 

Larger  and  freer  existence. 

Lofty  moral  standard. 

Love  of  justice. 

Love  of  mankind. 

Noble  principles. 

Religion  of  humanity. 

Reverential  admiration. 

Sympathy  with  mankind. 

Ultimate  improvement. 

Ultimate  prospects  of  humanity. 

Unselfish  benevolence. 

Vista  of  improvement. 

It  is  interesting  to  hear  that  all 
these  superexcellences  are  to  be 
introduced  by  people  like  himself, 
for  thus  he  writes  : — 

"  I  looked  forward,  through  the  pres- 
ent age  of  loud  disputes,  but  generally 
weak  convictions,  to  a  future  which 
shall  unite  the  best  qualities  of  the 
critical  with  the  best  qualities  of  the  or- 
ganic periods  [what  and  when  were 
these?].  .  .  .  [when]  they  shall  not, 
like  all  former  and  present  creeds,  re- 
ligious, ethical,  and  political,  require  to 
be  periodically  thrown  off  and  replaced 
by  others  "  (p.  166).  "  I  agreed  with 
him  [Comte]  that  the  moral  and  intel- 
lectual ascendancy,  once  exercised  by 
priests  [and  Christian  pastors  ?],  must  in 
time  pass  into  the  hands  of  [Utopian] 
philosophers,  and  will  naturally  do  so 
when  they  become  sufficiently  unani- 
mous, and  in  other  respects  worthy  to 
possess  it  "(p.  212).  [Two  very  im- 
portant conditions.] 

How  different  is  the  spirit  that 
breathes  through  the  following  letter 
of  Sir  David  Brewster  to  Professor 
James  Forbes,  written  on  the  nth 
February,  1830,  and  to  be  found  at 
page  60  of  the  life  of  the  latter,  pub- 
lished lately : — 

"  You  will  find  that  a  life  of  science 
6 


has  in  it  no  superiority  to  any  other,  un- 
less it  is  pursued  from  a  higher  principle 
than  the  mere  ambition  of  notoriety,  and 
that  a  demagogue  or  a  philosopher  differs 
only  in  the  objects  of  their  selfishness. 
[How  applicable  this  is  to  Mill  !]  As  you 
will  now  have  experienced  how  unsatis- 
fying even  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  is 
when  insulated  from  higher  objects,  I 
hope,  if  you  have  not  been  fortunate 
enough  to  begin  the  study  earlier,  that 
you  will  devote  yourself  to  the  most  ex- 
traordinary of  all  subjects,  one  which 
infinitely  surpasses  the  mechanism  of 
the  heavens,  or  the  chemistry  of  the 
material  world,  the  revelation  of  your 
duty,  and  the  destiny  of  man  as  con- 
tained in  the  Bible — a  book  which  occu- 
pied the  best  hours  of  the  manhood  of 
Newton,  of  Locke,  and  of  Euler." 

The  strongest  reason  given  by  the 
Pagan  philosophers,  or  that  can  be 
advanced  to-day,  for  the  existence 
of  God,  is  the  existence  of  man 
himself;  for  the  sentiment  expressed 
by  Cicero  is  an  appeal  to  every  in- 
telligent being  : — "  Every  man  must 
recognize  a  Deity  who  has  any  rec- 
ollection and  knowledge  of  his  own 
origin."  To  -  day  he  is  not,  to- 
morrow he  is  conceived,  and  in  nine 
months  he  is  born,  the  most  help- 
less of  creatures,  to  appearance  the 
sport  of  every  circumstance  as  re- 
gards his  preservation,  and  the  time 
and  mode  of  passing  out  of  his 
earthly  existence.  What  is  said  of 
him  by  the  Psalmist  is  but  the  ex- 
pression of  the  instinct  of  nature  : — 
"  I  am  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
made."  "  Thou  art  he  that  took 
me  out  of  the  womb."  "  I  was  cast 
upon  thee  from  the  womb ;  thou  art 
my  God  from  my  mother's  belly." 
"By  thee  have  I  been  holden  up 
from  the  womb ;  thou  art  he  that  took 
me  out  of  my  mother's  bowels  :  my 
praise  shall  be  continually  of  thee." 
Of  this  created  being,  who  was  orig- 
inally "  made  a  little  lower  than  the 
angels,"  Job  says : — "  If  I  wait,  the 
grave  is  mine  house."  "  I  have  said 
to  corruption,  Thou  art  my  father : 
to  the  worm,  Thou  art  my  mother, 
and  my  sister."  "How  much  less 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


man,  that  is  a  worm,  and  the  son  of 
man,  who  is  a  worm." 

Man's  mode  of  coming  into  being 
is,  as  I  have  said,  an  appeal  to  every 
intelligent  creature  of  more  or  less 
maturity  of  knowledge.  It  is  all  the 
more  wonderful  when  it  is  consid- 
ered that  one  generation  might  have 
been  the  children  instead  of  the 
parents  of  the  other,  so  far  as  the 
knowledge,  choice,  and  power  of  the 
blind  instruments  of  the  perpetua- 
tion of  the  race  are  concerned ;  for 
the  subject  is  as  incomprehensible 
to  them,  with  all  their  endowments, 
if  left  to  themselves,  as  if  they  were 
the  most  irrational  of  beings.  Hence 
the  natural  and  easy  transition  to 
what  St.  Paul  said  to  the  Athenians: — 
"  For  in  him  we  live,  and  move,  and 
have  our  being ;  as  certain  also  of 
your  own  poets  have  said,  For  we  are 
also  his  offspring  "  (Acts  xvii.  28). 
If  our  present  existence,  in  every 
possible  aspect  of  it,  is  so  utterly 
incomprehensible  to  us,  why  object 
to  one  in  a  future  state,  when  it 
seems  but  the  complement  of  the 
present  one,  as  it  is  the  desire — the 
hope  and  consolation  —  of  virtu- 
ous and  pious,  or  even  thoughtful 
men  ?  And  since  our  bodies  emanate 
from  nothing,  why  speak  of  the  im- 
possibility, or  even  the  unlikelihood 
of  a  resurrection,  which  has  now  as 
it  had  of  old  this  effect,  as  experi- 
enced by  the  Apostle  : — "  And  when 
they  heard  of  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead,  some  mocked,  and  others  said, 
We  will  hear  thee  again  of  this  mat- 
ter "  (verse  32).  And  if  we  reject 
the  Scriptures,  what  would  people, 
brought  up  in  a  Christian  communi- 
ty, accept  in  their  place,  beyond 
their  own  ignorance,  helplessness 
and  misery  ? 

The  Mills  could  not  have  been  al- 
together devoid  of  the  instincts  com- 
mon to  their  kind,  when  they  spent 
their  lives  in  seeking  or  wishing  to 
obliterate  from  the  mind  of  man,  as 
well  as  their  own,  the  sense  of  a 
knowledge  of,  and  a  reliance  on,  the 
author  of  their  beings.  Both  of 


them  seem  to  have  been  singularly  ill- 
made-up  characters — a  species  of 
wild  men,  in  short;  the  elder  being 
the  strangest  phenomenon  of  the 
two,  inasmuch  as  he  was  carefully 
trained  and  licensed  to  preach 
Christianity,  and  doubtless  did 
preach  it.  Both  were  really  asham- 
ed and  afraid  to  avow  before  the 
world  that  they  did  not  believe  in 
God ;  while  others,  often  the  best 
and  most  pious  of  men,  are  half- 
ashamed,  half -afraid,  to  avow  to 
everyone  how  much  they  do  believe 
in  him,  and  in  the  revelation  which 
he  has  made  of  himself  to  his  crea- 
tures. 

The  opinions  of  so  many  of  the 
wise  and  great  men  of  the  earth,  in 
addition  to  the  instincts  of  their 
kind,  as  to  the  existence  of  God, 
had  no  effect  on  the  Mills ;  and 
while  other  men  may  desire  to  hold 
themselves  entirely  at  his  disposal, 
we  could  imagine  them  fretting  over 
the  mysteries  of  their  being  and 
destiny,  and  the  "  nature  of  things," 
like  hyenas  pacing  to  and  fro  in 
their  cages.  If  they  could  have 
succeeded  in  suppressing  in  their 
breasts  all  thought  of  the  Deity,  and 
their  responsibilities  to  him,  they 
would  have  to  some  extent  re- 
alized their  creeds ;  that  of  the 
elder  being  that  "  the  exclusive 
test  of  right  and  wrong  [is]  the 
tendency  of  actions  to  produce 
pleasure  or  pain  "  (p.  48) ;  and  that 
of  the  younger,  that  "  happiness  is 
the  test  of  all  rules  of  conduct,  and 
the  end  of  life  "  (p.  142). 

II. 

HIS    EDUCATION. 

In  regard  to  his  education,  Mill 
writes : — 

"  I  have  thought  that  in  an  age  in 
which  education  and  its  improvement 
are  the  subject  of  more,  if  not  of  pro- 
founder  study  than  at  any  former  period 
of  English  history,  it  may  be  useful  that 
there  should  be  some  record  of  an  edu- 
cation which  was  unusual  and  remark- 


HIS  EDUCA  TION. 


able  [as  it  doubtless  was],  and  which, 
whatever  else  it  may  have  done,  has 
proved  how  much  more  than  is  com- 
monly supposed  may  be  taught,  and 
well  taught,  in  those  early  years  which, 
in  the  common  modes  of  what  is  called 
instruction,  are  little  better  than  wast- 
ed "  (p.  I). 

His  education  was  given  him  by 
his  father,  who,  "  with  no  resource 
but  the  precarious  one  of  writing  in 
periodicals,  married  and  had  a  large 
family  "  (p.  3)  :  "  partly  because  of 
the  peculiar  abilities  that  the  boy  dis- 
played from  the  first,  partly  because 
he  could  not  afford  to  procure  for  him 
elsewhere  such  teaching  as  he  was 
able  himself  to  give  him  "  {Bourne]. 
We  have  here  an  illustration  of  the 
great  want  of  judgment  that  stares 
out  in  almost  every  part  of  the  Au- 
tobiography, when  he  tells  us  that 
this  education  given  him  at  home, 
could  be  useful  to  the  world  as  an 
example  how  children  should  be 
instructed.  What  he  says  rather 
reveals  an  intense  self-worship  in 
the  narration  of  his  so-called  won- 
derfully precocious  acquirements. 
Most  of  people  will  think  that  the 
kind  of  instruction  given  Mill,  and 
his  absolute  seclusion  from  associa- 
tions with  his  kind,  would  turn  out 
the  vast  majority  of  children  of  even 
good  parts  so  many  imbeciles,  if  not 
idiots.  It  would,  indeed,  be  difficult 
to  find  another  such  instance  of  ed- 
ucation, as  regards  instruction  and 
treatment,  more  suited  to  guard 
against  such  in  the  future,  or  that 
would  prove  more  offensive  to  the 
ordinary  instincts  of  human  nature. 
It  sounds  odd  to  hear  it  said  that 
the  means  followed  by  the  world  at 
large,  in  having  their  children  taught 
in  the  "  common  modes,"  are  "little 
better  than  wasted."  That  was  a 
subject  of  which  Mill  had  no  per- 
sonal knowledge ;  and  the  absurdity 
of  the  remark  shows  that  he  never 
took  the  trouble  to  inform  himself 
jn  regard  to  it,  otherwise  he  would 
not  have  advanced  an  opinion  in 
the  absolute  and  dogmatical  way  he 
lias  done. 


We  are  told  that  he  began  Greek 
at  three  years  old,  and  before  he 
remembered  it,  but  did  not  com- 
mence Latin  until  his  eighth  year. 
At  that  time,  he  says,  he  had  read 
Herodotus,  Xenophon,  Diogenes 
Laertius,  Lucian,  Isocrates,  and  the 
first  six  dialogues  of  Plato;  and 
Robertson,  Hume,  Gibbon,  Wat- 
son's Philip  the  Second  and  Third, 
Hooke's  History  of  Rome,  Rollin, 
Langhorne's  Plutarch,  Burnet's  His- 
tory of  his  Own  Times,  etc. 

"  In  these  frequent  talks  about  the 
books  I  read,  he  [his  father]  used,  as 
opportunity  offered,  to  give  me  explana- 
tions and  ideas  respecting  civilization, 
government,  morality,  mental  cultiva- 
tion, which  he  required  me  afterwards 
to  restate  to  him  in  my  own  words  " 
(p.  8). 

From  his  eighth  to  his  twelfth  year 
he  read,  in  whole  or  in  part,  Virgil, 
Horace,  Phsedrus,  Livy,  Sallust, 
Ovid,  Terence,  Lucretius,  Cicero, 
Homer,  Sophocles,  Euripides,  Aris- 
tophanes, etc.,  etc. 

"  Aristotle's  Rhetoric  .  ...  my 
father  made  me  study  with  particular 
care,  and  throw  the  matter  of  it  into 
synoptic  tables.  During  the  same  years 
I  learnt  elementary  geometry  and  alge- 
bra thoroughly"  (p.  12). 

He  successively  composed  a  Ro- 
man History,  an  Abridgment  of  the 
Ancient  Universal  History,  a  His- 
tory of  Holland,  and,  in  his  eleventh 
and  twelfth  years,  a  History  of  the 
Roman  Government,  large  enough 
to  make  an  octavo  volume,  in  which 
he  "  discussed  all  the  constitutional 
points  as  they  arose  "  (p.  13),  and 
"  vindicated  the  Agrarian  Laws  on 
the  evidence  of  Livy,  and  upheld,  to 
the  best  of  my  ability,  the  Roman 
Democratic  party "  (p.  14).  From 
about  his  twelfth  year,  he  began  on 
"  thoughts  themselves,"  starting  in 
logic  with  the  Organon,  and  several 
of  the  Latin  treatises  on  the  scholas- 
tic logic ;  and  he  gives  a  list  of  his 
high  studies.  Some  of  the  principal 
orations  of  Demosthenes  he  "  read 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


several  times  over,  and  wrote  out, 
by  way  of  exercise,  a  full  analysis  of 
them"  (p.  20).  In  1819,  when 
thirteen  years  old,  his  father  took 
him  "  through  a  complete  course  of 
political  economy  "  (p.  27),  and  he 
•'  went  through  the  whole  extent  of 
the  science"  (p.  28),  and  "read 
Ricardo,  giving  an  account  daily  of 
what  I  read,  and  discussing,  in  the 
best  manner  I  could,  the  collateral 
points  which  offered  themselves  in 
our  progress"  (p.  28).  This  won- 
derfully precocious  boy-philosopher 
goes  on  to  say : — 

"  I  remember  at  some  time  in  my 
thirteenth  year,  on  my  happening  to  use 
the  word  idea,  he  [his  father]  asked  me 
what  an  idea  was  ;  and  expressed  some 
displeasure  at  my  ineffectual  efforts  to 
define  the  word.  I  recollect,  also,  his  in- 
dignation at  my  using  the  common  expres- 
sion, that  something  was  true  in  theory, 
but  required  correction  in  practice  ;  and 
how,  after  making  me  vainly  strive  to 
define  the  word  theory,  ...  I  had 
shown  unparalleled  ignorance  "  (p.  32). 
"  He  strove  to  make  the  understanding 
not  only^Y?  along  with  every  step  of  the 
teaching,  but,  if  possible,  precede  zt  [!] 
....  As  far  as  I  can  trust  my  remem- 
brance, I  acquitted  myself  very  lamely 
in  this  department ;  my  recollection  of 
such  matters  is  almost  wholly  of  failures, 
hardly  ever  of  success.  It  is  true  the 
failures  were  often  in  things  in  which 
success,  in  so  early  a  stage  of  my  pro- 
gress, was  almost  impossible  "  (p.  32). 

There  is  much,  at  pages  30-32, 
on  this  subject,  at  such  variance 
with  human  experience,  and  so  con- 
tradicted by  himself,  as  just  illustra- 
ted, that  it  is  difficult  to  think  how 
he  could  have  put  it  on  record. 
Thus  he  says,  "  Mine,  however,  was 
not  an  education  of  cram"  (p.  31), 
when  it  was  nothing  but  cram,  and 
such  cram  that  it  was  little  better 
than  a  crime  for  his  father  to  perpe- 
trate it  on  him.  That  can  hardly 
be  called  cram  which  consists  in 
filling  a  child's  memory  with  words 
without  it  understanding  them,  com- 
pared to  torturing  one  like  Mill  in 
trying  to  get  him  to  comprehend  so 


many  books  and  subjects,  which,  af- 
ter ten  years  of  such  cramming,  did 
not  yield  the  fruit  of  eliciting  any 
kind  of  definition  of  such  simple 
words  as  idea  and  theory !  Memory 
and  general  instruction  are  the  prin- 
cipal things  to  be  attended  to  in  the 
education  of  a  child  of  a  certain 
age ;  while  its  understanding  of  what 
is  taught  it,  and  of  things  in  general, 
is  to  be  cultivated  as  circumstances 
will  warrant,  for  the  reason  that  the 
mind,  like  everything  else  in  nature, 
must  grow,  and  must  not  be  forced. 
He  speaks  of  the  "  wretched  waste 
of  so  many  precious  years  as  are 
spent  in  acquiring  the  modicum  of 
Latin  and  Greek  commonly  taught 
to  school-boys  "(p. 30).  Like  perhaps 
everything  else  he  finds  fault  with, 
he  does  not  say  in  what  respect  this 
is  wrong,  or  suggest  anything  better 
to  take  its  place.  No  doubt  more 
time  than  is  necessary  is  often,  if  not 
generally,  given  to  Latin  and  Greek, 
when  they  are  to  be  of  almost  no 
use  in  after  life,  and  when  both  be- 
come nearly  forgotten;  their  main 
or  only  use  then  being,  like  mathe- 
matics and  such  subjects,  to  remind 
people  that  they  did  learn  and  un- 
derstand such  in  their  youth,  if  they 
have  now  forgotten  them,  so  as  to 
prevent  them  having  an  undefined 
and  magnified  sense  of  ignorance, 
and  consequent  diffidence,  had  they 
never  known  anything  about  them. 
A  considerable  part  of  the  time 
spent  on  Latin  and  Greek  could,  in 
the  great  majority  of  cases,  be  profit- 
ably given  to  modern  languages  and 
more  advanced  branches  of  their 
own  language,  and  some  of  the  sim- 
ple aspects  of  science  of  various 
kinds,  and  especially  to  writing  or 
copying  subjects  on  paper,  to  im- 
prove the  handwriting,  spelling,  the 
use  of  capitals  and  punctuation,  com- 
mand of  language,  style,  etc.,  for  use 
in  any  calling  in  life.  Education, 
indeed,  should  be  uniform  up  to  a 
certain  point,  when  it  should  diverge 
to  suit  the  purpose  it  is  required  to 
serve.  As  the  classics  are  taught  in 


HIS  EDUCATION. 


some  public  schools,  in  large  classes, 
perhaps  a  third  of  the  scholars  do 
well,  a  third  fairly,  and  the  other 
third  very  indifferently,  if  not  nomi- 
nally. But  all  that  does  not  in  any 
way  concern  Mill's  father's  style  of 
tuition  and  discipline,  which  was 
private,  for  it  is  of  the  capacity  of 
children  he  writes,  when  he  says  : — 

"If  I  had  been  by  nature  extremely 
quick  of  apprehension,  or  had  possessed 
a  very  accurate  and  retentive  memory, 
or  were  of  a  remarkably  active  and  en- 
ergetic character,  the  trial  would  not  be 
conclusive  ;  but  in  all  these  natural  gifts 
I  am  rather  below  than  above  par  "  (p. 
30)  ;  and  illustrating  his  profound  igno- 
rance of  human  nature  in  its  undevel- 
oped state,  he  adds  :  "  What  I  could 
do,  could  assuredly  be  done  by  any  boy 
or  girl  of  average  capacity  and  healthy 
physical  constitution  "  (p.  30). 

The  common  instinct  of  humanity 
proclaims  such  an  idea  an  absurdity. 
Still,  he  considered  himself  fortu- 
nate by  his  early  training,  in  "  start- 
ing with  an  advantage  of  a  quarter 
of  a  century  over  my  contempora- 
ries "  (p.  31),  when,  at  the  age  of 
thirteen,  with  all  his  "  advantages," 
he  could  make  nothing  of  the  mean- 
ing of  the  words  idea  and  theory.* 
And  yet  he  mentions  that  in  his 
eleventh  year  he  read  the  manuscript 
of  his  father's  History  of  India,  while 
the  author  corrected  the  proofs,  and 
adds  : — 

"  The  number  of  new  ideas  which  I 
received  from  this  remarkable  book  [ap- 
parently at  that  time],  and  the  impulse 
and  stimulus  as  well  as  guidance  given 
to  my  thoughts  by  its  criticisms  and  dis- 
quisitions on  society  and  civilization  in 
the  Hindoo  part,  on  institutions  and  the 
acts  of  governments  in  the  English  part, 
made  my  early  familiarity  with  it  emi- 
nently useful  to  my  subsequent  progress" 
(p.  24). 

It  is  difficult   to   reconcile   such 

*  Mill  could  have  said  of  himself,  in 
the  child's  doggerel  slightly  modified, 

"  Through   the   big   books   and    through 

the  big  books  I  ran, 
And  little  as  I  was,  I  beat  a  large  man." 


glaring  inconsistencies,  unless  we 
allow  for  Mill  being  a  long  way 
"  below  par  "  in  the  matter  of  mem- 
ory, as  he  admitted,  or  for  his  un- 
sound, erratic  and  unreliable  judg- 
ment, when  he  depended  entirely  on 
himself.  We  could  also  find  a  solu- 
tion of  the  mystery  in  bragging,  in 
consequence  of  his  never  having 
any  religious  belief,  or  of  his 
never  having  admitted  of  the  ex- 
istence of  God,  and  refusing,  in 
common  with  his  wife,  to  be  bound 
by  "  the  ordinances  of  society,  on 
a  subject  so  entirely  personal " 
(p.  229),  and  that  hurt  no  one — 
"  violations  which,  whether  in  them- 
selves right  or  wrong,  are  capable 
of  being  committed  by  persons  in 
every  other  respect  loveable  or  ad- 
mirable "  (p.  1 88);  since  none  of 
these  infringed  upon  the  Benthamic 
"  dogma  or  creed,  law  or  gospel  " — 
"  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  great- 
est number"  (which  was  sound 
enough,  to  a  certain  extent,  as  to 
the  laws  that  should  be  made  for  a 
country),  and  his  own,  "  in  his  con- 
viction of  which  he  never  wavered," 
that  "happiness  is  the  test  of  all 
rules  of  conduct,  and  the  end  of 
life  "(p.  142). 

Mill's  own  words  were  extremely 
applicable  to  himself  to  the  last,  in 
spite  of  his  disclaimer,  when  he 
wrote : — 

"  Most  boys  or  youths  who  have  had 
much  knowledge  drilled  into  them 
[what  boys  were  these?]  have  their 
mental  capacities  not  strengthened,  but 
overlaid  by  it.  They  are  crammed  with 
mere  facts,  and  with  the  opinions  or 
phrases  of  other  people,  and  these  are 
accepted  as  a  substitute  for  the  power  to 
form  opinions  of  their  own :  and  thus 
the  sons  of  eminent  fathers,  who  have 
spared  no  pains  in  their  education,  so 
often  grow  up  mere  parroters  of  what 
they  have  learnt,  incapable  of  using 
their  minds  except  in  the  furrows  traced 
for  them"  (p.  31). 

We  will  by  and  by  see  that,  to  the 
last,  Mill  was  constantly  drawing, 
not  his  facts  and  generalizing  him- 


86 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


self  from  them,  but  his  opinions, 
from  one  source  and  then  from  ano- 
ther,  and,  generally  with  a  rush, 
modifying,  changing,  and  "  going 
back  "  on  them ;  often  falling  into 
ideas  that  were  impractical,  Uto- 
pian, fantastic,  and  pernicious,  es- 
pecially when  he  attempted  to  strike 
out  for  himself  in  matters  that 
called  for  the  exercise  of  common 
sense  or  knowledge  of  the  world. 
At  first  it  was  the  "  youthful  fanati- 
cisms" and  the  "great  excesses," 
etc.,  of  a  "  reasoning  machine  " — al- 
ways "  everything  by  turns  and 
nothing  long."  He  resembled  a 
dog  that  is  now  on  the  scent,  and 
now  off  it,  "  taking  the  back-track," 
and  running  this  way  and  then  that 
way,  and  getting  into  holes  from 
which  he  requires  to  be  drawn  or 
dug  out.  He  was  constantly  tum- 
bling around  the  "  arena  of  thought"; 
now  he  would  tumble  into  a  chair, 
and  no  sooner  was  he  in  it,  or  seem- 
ed to  be  in  it,  than  he  would  tumble 
out  of  it.  Here  is  what  he  says  of 
himself: — 

"  I  found  the  fabric  of  my  old  and 
taiight  opinions  giving  way  in  many  fresh 
places,  and  I  never  allowed  it  to  fall  to 
pieces,  but  was  incessantly  weaving  it 
anew"  (p.  156).  "It  has  also  seemed 
to  me  that  in  an  age  of  transition  in 
opinions,  there  may  be  somewhat 
both  of  interest  and  of  benefit  [as  there 
doubtless  is]  in  noting  the  successive 
phases  of  any  mind  which  was  always 
pressing  forward,  equally  ready  to  learn 
and  to  unlearn,  either  from  its  own 
thoughts  or  from  those  of  others"  (p. 

2). 

It  is  interesting  to  note  his  opin- 
ion of  his  father's  temper  and 
general  deportment  while  instruct- 
ing his  children  at  home,  which  ne- 
cessity, as  we  have  seen,  made  him 
do ;  so  that  the  instruction,  or  the 
way  in  which  it  was  given,  could  be 
of  little  or  no  use,  as  an  example,  in 
the  teaching  of  children  at  schools. 

"  My  father,  in  all  his  teaching,  de- 
manded of  me  not  only  the  utmost  that 
T  could  do,  but  much  that  I  could  by  no 
possibility  have  done  "  (p.  5).  "  One  of 


the  most  impatient  of  men  "  (p.  6).  "  I 
was  continually  incurring  his  displeasure 
Dy  my  inability  to  solve  difficult  prob- 
ems,  for  which  he  did  not  see  that  I  had 
not  the  necessary  previous  knowledge  " 
(p.  12).  "Most  of  these  reflections 
were  beyond  my  capacity  of  full  compre- 
hension at  the  time"  (p.  21).  "The 
particular  attention  which  he  paid 
to  elocution  (in  which  his  own  excel- 
lence was  remarkable)  made  this  read- 
ing aloud  to  him  a  most  painful  task. 
Of  all  things  which  he  required  me  to 
do,  there  was  none  which  I  did  so  con- 
stantly ill,  or  in  which  he  so  perpetually 

lost  his  temper  with  me 

These  rules  he  strongly  impressed  on 
me,  and  took  me  severely  to  task  for 
every  violation  of  them  ;  but  I  even  then 
remarked  (though  I  did  not  venture  to 
make  the  remark  to  him),  that  though 
he  reproached  me  when  I  read  a  sen- 
tence ill,  and  told  me  how  I  ought  to 
have  read  it,  he  never,  by  reading  it 
himself,  showed  me  how  it  ought  to  be 
read.  A  defect  running  through  his 
otherwise  admirable  [?]  modes  of  in- 
struction, as  it  did  through  all  his 
modes  of  thought,  was  that  of  trusting 
too  much  to  the  intelligibleness  of  the 
abstract,  when  not  embodied  in  the  con- 
crete "  (p.  23)."  *  "He  was  often,  and 
much  beyond  reason,  provoked  by  my 
failures  in  cases  where  success  could  not 
have  been  expected  ;  but  in  the  main  his 
method  was  right  [?],  and  it  succeeded  " 
(p.  29).  "  The  element  which  was 
chiefly  deficient  in  his  moral  relation  to 
his  children  was  that  of  tenderness  "  (p. 
51).  "  If  we  consider  further  that  he 
was  in  the  trying  position  of  sole 
teacher,  and  add  to  this  that  his  temper 
was  constitutionally  irritable,  it  is  impos- 
sible not  to  feel  true  pity  for  [children 
rather  than]  a  father  who  did,  and  strove 
to  do,  so  much  for  his  children,  who  would 
have  so  valued  their  affection,  yet  who 
must  have  been  constantly  feeling  that 
fear  of  him  was  drying  it  up  at  its 
source.  This  was  no  longer  the  case 
later  in  life,  and  with  his  younger  chil- 
dren. They  loved  him  tenderly  ;  and  if 
I  cannot  say  so  much  of  myself,  I  was 
always  loyally  devoted  to  him.  As  re- 
gards my  own  education,  I  hesitate 


*  In  regard  to  his  power  as  a  speaker, 

Mill    says  : — "  I   never,  indeed,  acquired 

real  fluency,  and  had   always  a  bad  and 

ungraceful   delivery  ;  but  I   could  make 

!  myself  listened  to  "  (p.  129). 


HIS  ED  UCA  TION. 


[why  so  ?]  to  pronounce  whether  I  was 
more  a  loser  or  gainer  by  his  severity. 
It  was  not  such  as  to  prevent  me  from 
having  a  happy  childhood  "  (p.  52)- 

"  I  went  through  the  whole  process  of 
preparing  my  Greek  lessons  in  the  same 
room  and  at  the  same  table  at  which  he 
was  writing  "  (p.  6).  "  In  my  eighth 
year  I  commenced  learning  Latin,  in 
conjunction  with  a  younger  sister,  to 
whom  I  taught  it  as  I  went  on,  and  who 
afterwards  repeated  the  lessons  to  my 
father  ;  and  from  this  time,  other  sisters 
and  brothers  being  successively  added 
as  pupils,  a  considerable  part  of  my 
day's  work  consisted  of  this  preparatory 
teaching.  It  was  a  part  which  I  greatly 
disliked  ;  the  more  so  as  I  was  held  re- 
sponsible for  the  lessons  of  my  pupils  in 
almost  as  full  a  sense  as  for  my  own. 

.  .  .  .  In  other  respects,  the  ex- 
perience of  my  boyhood  is  not  favour- 
able to  the  plan  of  teaching  children  by 
means  of  one  another.  The  teaching,  I 
am  sure,  is  very  inefficient  as  teaching, 
and  I  well  know  that  the  relation  be- 
tween teacher  and  taught  is  not  a  good 
moral  discipline  to  either  "  (p.  10). 

"  It  is  evident  that  this,  among  many 
other  of  the  purposes  of  my  father's 
scheme  of  education,  could  not  have 
been  accomplished,  if  he  had  not  care- 
fully kept  me  from  having  any  great 
amount  of  intercourse  with  other  boys. 
He  was  earnestly  bent  upon  my  escap- 
ing, not  only  the  corrupting  influence 
which  boys  exercise  over  boys,  but  the 
contagion  of  vulgar  modes  of  thought 
and  feeling  [!]  ;  and  for  this  he  was 
willing  that  I  should  pay  the  price  [a 
heavy  one]  of  inferiority  in  the  accom- 
plishments which  school-boys  in  all 
countries  chiefly  cultivate.  The  defi- 
ciencies in  my  education  were  princi- 
pally in  the  things  which  boys  learn 
from  being  turned  out  to  shift  for  them- 
selves, and  from  being  brought  to- 
gether in  large  numbers.  ...  I 
could  do  no  feats  of  skill  or  physical 
strength,  and  knew  none  of  the  ordinary 
bodily  exercises.*  ...  No  holidays 

*  Such  exercises  were,  doubtless,  for- 
bidden him  by  his  father,  who  seems  to 
have  laid  down  a  style  of  life  for  him  to 
follow,  from  which  there  was  no  appeal, 
although  that  is  not  expressly  stated. 
During  his  absence  on  the  Continent, 
when  about  fifteen,  he  seems  to  have  at- 
tempted to  make  up  for  his  early  want  of 
bodily  exercises,  and  when  he  could 
indulge  in  them  away  from  the  control  of 


were  allowed I  had  no  boy 

companions I  consequently 

remained  long,  and  in  a  less  degree 
have  always  remained,  inexpert  in  any- 
thing requiring  manual  dexterity ;  my 
mind,  as  well  as  my  hands,  did  its  work 
very  lamely  when  it  was  applied,  or  ought 
to  have  been  applied,  to  the  practical  de- 
tails which,  as  they  are  the  chief  interest 
of  life  to  the  majority  of  men,  are  also  the 
things  in  which  whatever  mental  capa- 
city [or  common  sense]  they  have, 
chiefly  shows  itself:  I  was  constantly 
meriting  reproof  by  inattention,  inobser- 
vance,  and  general  slackness  of  mind 
in  matters  of  daily  life.  My  father  was 
the  extreme  opposite  in  these  particulars 
[for  he  was  brought  up  at  a  totally  dif- 
ferent school] :  his  senses  and  mental 
faculties  were  always  on  the  alert ;  he 
carried  decision  and  energy  of  charac- 
ter in  his  whole  manner  and  into  every 
action  of  life :  and  this,  as  much  as  his 
talents,  contributed  to  the  strong  im- 
pression which  he  always  made  upon 
those  with  whom  he  came  into  personal 
contact.  But  the  children  of  energetic 
parents  frequently  grow  up  unenergetic, 
because  they  lean  on  their  parents,  and 
the  parents  are  energetic  for  them  [and 
consequently  spoil  them].  The  educa- 
tion which  my  father  gave  me  was  in 
itself  much  more  fitted  for  training  me 
to  knoiu  [like  a  '  parroter  ']  than  to  do. 
Not  that  he  was  unaware  of  my  de- 
ficiencies ;  both  as  a  boy  and  as  a  youth 
I  was  incessantly  smarting  under  his 
severe  admonitions  on  the  subject  [as 
did  the  Israelites  when  compelled  by 
Pharaoh  to  make  bricks  without  straw]. 
There  was  anything  but  insensibility  or 
tolerance  on  his  part  towards  such 
shortcomings  [ !  ] :  *  but,  while  he  saved 
me  from  the  demoralizing  effects  [and 
manly  influences]  of  school  life,  he  made 
no  effort  to  provide  me  with  any  suffi- 
cient substitute  [what  was  it?]  for  its 
practicalizing  influences.  Whatever 
qualities  he  himself,  probably,  had  ac- 
quired, without  difficulty  or  special 


his  father,  for  he  says  : — "  During  this  resi- 
dence in  France  ...  I  took  lessons 
in  various  bodily  exercises,  in  none  of 
which,  however,  I  made  any  proficiency  " 
(P-  57)- 

*  Mill  seems  to  have  intended  to  say, 
"anything  but  insensibility  or  zVztoler- 
ance."  There  was  anything  but  sensibility 
or  tolerance  in  his  father's  actions,  as  de- 
scribed. 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


training  [beyond  that  of  the  school,  the 
university,  his  tutorship,  and  his  inter- 
course with  his  fellow-creatures]  he 
seems  to  have  supposed  that  I  ought  to 
acquire  as  easily  [although  reared  like 
a  bird  in  a  cage].  He  had  not,  I  think, 
bestowed  the  same  amount  of  thought 
and  attention  on  this  as  on  most  other 
branches  of  education  [  ?  ]  ;  and  here, 
•as  well  as  in  some  other  points  of  my 
tuition,  he  seems  to  have  {seems  to 
have !]  expected  effects  without  causes 
(P-  37). 

We  are  told  that  his  father  "  most 
anxiously  guarded  against  "  his  son 
acquiring  self-conceit,  and  kept  him 
"  with  extreme  vigilance "  from 
being  praised,  so  that  he  did  not 
become  aware  that  his  attainments 
were  anything  unusual  at  his  age, 
and  in  such  ignorance  on  the  sub- 
ject, that  he  "  did  not  estimate  him- 
self at  all."  In  speaking  of  his 
father,  he  says,  when  in  his  four- 
teenth year : — 

"  From  his  own  intercourse  with  me 
I  could  derive  none  but  a  very  humble 
opinion  of  myself"  (p.  32).  "  He  wound 
up  by  saying  that  whatever  I  knew  more 
than  others  could  not  be  ascribed  to  any 
merit  in  me  [even  in  standing  the  cram- 
ming], but  to  the  very  unusual  advantage 
which  had  fallen  to  my  lot  of  having  a 
father  who  was  able  to  teach  me  [after 
being  himself  taught  at  the  expense  of 
strangers]  and  willing  to  give  the  neces- 
sary trouble  and  time  [or  let  the  family 
grow  up  so  many  barbarians];  that  it  was 
no  matter  of  praise  to  me  [but  all  to  him- 
self] if  I  knew  more  than  those  who 
had  not  had  a  similar  advantage,  but 
the  deepest  disgrace  to  me  if  I  did  not " 
(p.  34).  "  They,  as  I  have  since  found, 
thought  me  greatly  and  disagreeably 
self-conceited,  probably  because  I  was 
disputatious,  and  did  not  scruple  to  give 
direct  contradictions  to  things  which  I 
heard  said.  I  suppose  I  acquired  this 
bad  habit  from  having  been  encouraged 
in  an  unusual  degree  to  talk  on  matters 
beyond  my  age,  and  with  grown  per- 
sons, while  I  never  had  inculcated  on 
me  the  usual  respect  for  them.  My 
father  did  not  correct  this  ill-breeding 
and  impertinence,  probably  from  not 
being-  aware  of  it,  for  I  was  always  too 
much  in  awe  of  him  to  be  otherwise 
than  extremely  subdued  and  quiet  in 


his  presence  "  (p.  34).  Yet  "  he  was 
full  of  anecdote,  a  hearty  laugher,  and, 
when  with  people  whom  he  liked,  a 
most  lively  and  amusing  companion" 
(p.  102). 

Among  the  books  which  Mill 
read  in  his  childhood,  he  says : — 

"  At  this  time  I  also  read  the  whole 
of  Tacitus,  Juvenal,  and  Quintilian. 
The  latter  .  .  .  .  is  a  kind  of  ency- 
clopaedia of  the  thoughts  of  the  ancients 
on  the  whole  field  of  education  and 
culture  ;  and  I  have  retained  through 
life  many  valuable  ideas  which  I  can 
distinctly  trace  to  my  reading  of  him, 
even  at  that  early  age  "  (p.  21). 

Had  he  read  Quintilian  to  any 
advantage,  he  would  have  found 
stated  at  length,  the  many  advan- 
tages a  boy  derives  from  a  public 
school  education  over  one  given 
him  by  a  private  tutor;  which  would 
have  completely  disposed  of  almost 
all  he  says  in  regard  to  his  so-called 
early  advantages.  He  would  also 
have  found  the  following  remarks 
very  applicable  to  himself: — 

"  How  shall  he  learn  what  we  call 
'  common  sense,'  when  he  sequesters 
himself  from  society,  which  is  natural 
not  only  to  men,  but  to  mute  animals" 
(Patsall,  /.  p.  26).  "  It  is  more  advisable 
.  .  .  that  a  show  may  not  be  made 
of  studies  which  are  still  in  a  crude 
state.  For  hence  arises  a  neglect  in 
taking  pains,  and  a  foundation  is  laid 
for  effrontery,  and  what  is  attended 
with  very  bad  consequences,  presump- 
tion anticipates  abilities  "  (/#.,!!.,  p.  385). 

Mill  wrote  of  himself  when  four- 
teen years  old  : — 

"  I  was  not  at  all  aware  that  my  at- 
tainments were  anything  unusual  at  my 
age  [completely  isolated  as  he  was  kept 
from  his  kind]  ...  I  never  thought 
of  saying  to  myself,  I  am,  or  I  can  do, 
so  and  so.  I  neither  estimated  myself 
highly  nor  lowly  ;  I  did  not  estimate  my- 
self at  all"  (p.  33),  [although  he  added 
that  others  thought  him  "  greatly  and 
disagreeably  self-conceited  "]. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  how 
this  cage-bred  bird,  which  had  been 
taught  many  things  in  its  confine- 


HIS  ED  UCA  TION. 


ment,  made  use  of  its  wings  on  be- 
ing set  at  liberty,  totally  ignorant 
of  the  outside  world.  We  find  him 
saying  of  himself,  when  fifteen  and  a 
half  years  old,  that  he  "  had  what 
might  truly  be  called  an  object  in 
life — to  be  a  reformer  of  the  world  " 
(p.  132).  For  this,  his  father  was 
doubtless  mainly  responsible,  for  he 
looked  on  "  his  son  John "  as  a 
wonderful  child,  destined  to  do 
some  great  things  in  the  'world ;  a 
kind  of  John  the  Baptist,  in  his  way 
of  thinking,  who  would  at  least 
"  build  the  bridges  and  clear  the 
paths  "  for  others,  and  connect  their 
thoughts  with  his  (and  doubtless 
his  father's)  "  general  system  of 
thought  "  (p.  244). 

It  is  also  interesting  to  notice  that 
Mill  kept  his  son  aloof  from  the 
"  corrupting  influence  which  boys 
exercise  over  boys,"  the  "  demoral- 
izing effects  of  school  life,"  and  the 
"  contagion  of  vulgar  modes  of 
thought  and  feeling,"  when  even 
royalty  will  send  its  children  to 
public  educational  establishments, 
for  the  benefit  of  being  initiated  in 
some  of  the  ways  of  the  world, 
which  must  be  done  in  youth,  to 
speak  of  nothing  else.  This  appears 
singular  when  we  consider  the  birth 
and  rearing  of  Mill  himself,  who 
was  brought  up  on  the  humblest  of 
Scotch  fare—"  taties  and  kail,  par- 
ritch  and  skim  or  kirn  milk  " — and 
went  barefooted  during  a  good  part  of 
the  year,  and  used  his  jacket-sleeve  as 
his  only  handkerchief.  And  if  the 
charity  by  which  he  was  educated 
went  no  further  than  the  instruction, 
his  "  provender "  while  at  college 
would,  in  all  probability,  be  con- 
fined for  the  most  part  to  his  meal- 
bag. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  James 
Mill  was  a  fit  and  proper  person  to 
be  intrusted  with  the  bringing-up 
of  children.  He  would,  doubtless, 
have  made  an  excellent  teacher  or 
drill-master  in  certain  branches  of 
education  in  an  institution  presided 
over  by  a  man  of  judgment  and 


humanity,  who  would  have  allowed 
him  no  discretion  in  their  manage- 
ment, beyond  instructing  them  in 
their  lessons  or  the  subjects  to  be 
taught  them.*  John  Stuart  Mill's 
education,  in  the  proper  sense  of 
the  word,  really  began  after  he  left 
his  father,  of  whom  he  stood  in  con- 
stant dread  to  the  last,  as  if  he  had 
him  always  after  him  with  a  stick. 
It  is  noticeable  how  he  picked  it 
up  "  about  town  " — here,  there,  and 
everywhere — undoing  much  of  his 
previous  instruction — and  as  much 
as  possible  away  from  his  father's 
supervision  or  influence.  The  latter 
in  some  respects  resembled  a  "beard- 
ed Savoyard,"  whose  calling  is  to 
"  teach  "  animals  which  have  the 
misfortune  to  find  their  way  to  his 
establishment  for  that  purpose. 
The  education  which  he  gave  his 
son  was  devoid  of  everything  con- 
nected with  the  imagination  and 
the  heart.  How  the  son  gradually 
shook  himself  clear  of  him  is  thus 
related,  when  he  was  about  twenty- 
six  years  old  : — 

"  My  father's  tone  of  thought  and  feel- 

*  Divinity  students,  in  Scotland  espe- 
cially, labour  under  great  disadvantages 
in  gaining  a  knowledge  of  the  world  by 
the  time  they  have  otherwise  prepared 
themselves  to  assume  their  positions  in  it. 
They  have  to  isolate  themselves  to  a 
great  extent  from  their  fellow-creatures, 
owing  to  the  nature  of  their  calling  and 
the  peculiarities  of  society  ;  their  associa- 
tions with  them  being  confined  for  the 
most  part  to  some  of  the  trifling  amenities 
of  life,  where  everything  presents  itself 
in  its  most  favourable  aspect ;  so  that 
when  they  are  about  twenty-five  years 
old  they  have  had  little  or  no  real  com- 
merce with  their  kind.  And  there  is  no 
chair  at  the  university  to  teach  them 
"  worldly  wisdom,"  to  make  up  the  loss. 
They  thus  lose  at  least  eight  years  of  the 
best  part  of  their  lives  for  acquiring  the 
most  important  part  of  knowledge.  Dur- 
ing all  that  time  they  are  presumed  to 
have  been  studying  the  "  eternal  verities," 
to  the  great  neglect  of  what  strictly  refers 
to  this  world.  Hence  they  assume  their 
positions  with  a  sufficiency  of  learning, 
but  with  a  deficiency  of  the  knowledge 
of  their  duties  relating  to  practical  life. 
If  the  student  belongs  to  a  poor  or  hum- 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


ing- 1  now  felt  myself  at  a  greater  distance 
from :  greater,  indeed,  than  a  full  and 
calm  explanation  and  reconsideration 
on  both  sides  might  have  shown  to 
exist  in  reality.  But  my  father  was  not 
one  with  whom  calm  and  full  explana- 
tions on  fundamental  points  of  doctrine 
could  be  expected,  at  least  with  one 
whom  he  might  consider  as,  in  some 
sort,  a  deserter  from  his  standard. 
Fortunately  we  were  almost  always  in 
strong  agreement  on  the  political  ques- 
tions of  the  day,  which  engrossed  a 
large  part  of  his  interest  and  of  his 
conversation.  On  the  matters  of  opinion 
on  which  we  differed,  we  talked  little. 
He  knew  that  the  habit  of  thinking  for 
myself,  which  his  mode  of  education 
had  fostered,  sometimes  led  me  to  opin- 
ions different  from  his  [but  not  on  the 
subject  of  religion],  and  he  perceived 
from  time  to  time  [the  business  must 
have  been  cautiously  gone  about]  that  I 
did  not  always  tell  him  how  different. 
I  expected  no  good,  but  only  pain  to 
both  of  us,  from  discussing  our  differ- 
ences ;  and  I  never  expressed  them 
when  he  gave  utterance  to  some  opinion 
or  feeling  repugnant  to  mine,  in  a  man- 
ner which  would  have  made  it  disingen- 
uousness  on  my  part  to  remain  silent " 
(p.  180). 

ble  class  in  society,  his  isolation  from  it 
is  apt  to  be  greater  than  that  of  the  late 
Dr.  Thomas  Guthrie,  who  started  with  a 
fair  social  position  and  training,  example 
and  associations,  to  say  nothing  of  his 
natural  gifts  of  observation  and  improve- 
ment in  matters  outside  of  his  profes- 
sional aspirations.  It  was  fifteen  years 
after  he  first  went  to  college  that  he  got 
a  church,  during  five  years  of  which,  after 
he  was  licensed,  he  had  "  knocked  about " 
a  good  deal,  besides  residing  and  study- 
ing in  Paris,  and  acting  in  his  twenty- 
six  and  twenty-seventh  years  as  agent  or 
manager  of  a  branch  bank,  which  he  de- 
scribed as  "  two  busy,  but  not  lost,  years 
in  that  employment."  And  he  says : — 
"  That,  in  point  of  fact,  was  not  the  least 
valuable  part  of  my  training  and  educa- 
tion. I  became  in  this  way  conversant 
both  with  mercantile  and  agricultural 
affairs  ;  and  those  who,  both  in  the  coun- 
try and  the  town,  afterwards  became  my 
people,  did  not  respect  me  the  less  when 
they  found  their  minister  was  something 
else  than  'a  fine  bodie,'  who  knew  no 
more  about  the  affairs,  the  hopes  and 
disappointments,  and  temptations,  and 
trials  of  men  engaged  in  the  business  of 
the  world  than  any  old  wife,  or  the  '  man 
in  the  moon'"  (Autobiography,  p.  107). 


It  is  certainly  "  useful  that  there 
should  be  some  record  of  an  educa- 
tion which  was  unusual  and  remark- 
able," to  guard  humanity  against 
the  ungodliness,  the  want  of  judg- 
ment, and  the  unnatural  treatment 
or  cruelty  displayed  in  it,  and  but 
for  which  John  Stuart  Mill  would 
doubtless  have  turned  out,  in  some 
respects,  a  different  man  from  what 
he  did. 

III. 

A    CRISIS    IN    HIS    HISTORY. 

We  have  seen  what  a  singular  train- 
ing John  Stuart  Mill  received  from 
his  father  in  the  important  questions 
of  religion,  education,  and  social 
life,  so  poorly  calculated  to  qualify 
him  for  the  real  battle  of  life,  and 
the  law,  for  which  he  was  originally 
intended..  He  informs  us,  as  we 
have  seen,  that  when  fifteen  he 
"  had  what  might  truly  be  called  an 
object  in  life — to  be  a  reformer  of 
the  world,"  when  he  had  been 
brought  up  almost  completely  isola- 
ted from  it,  at  least  to  such  an  extent 
as  was  apt  to  unfit  him  for  taking 


There  are  many  ways  in  which  students 
of  divinity  can  acquire  a  little  more 
knowledge  of  the  world  than  they  do,  if 
they  will  but  avail  themselves  of  them.  In- 
deed, "  serpentine  wisdom  "  is  not  only 
allowed,  but  commanded.  Romanists 
have  a  plan  of  their  own  in  these  matters. 
What  they  aim  at  is  to  make  their  stu- 
dents priests,  the  most  important  part  of 
whose  work  is  to  manage  their  people. 

James  Mill  seems  to  have  been  a  stu- 
dent like  those  described,  perhaps  a  "boor- 
ish cub  that  was  licked  into  shape,"  as 
Dr.  Thomas  Guthrie  expressed  it,  whose 
time  was  exclusively  given  to  his  books. 
He  would  acquire  little  knowledge 
as  a  tutor  beyond  the  ways  of  polite 
society,  and  have  much  of  his  Forfarshire 
roughness  rubbed  off  him.  He  seems  to 
have  chosen  a  tutorship  rather  than  a 
public  school,  for,  had  he  taken  the 
latter,  he  would  have  lost  caste,  and  run 
a  much  greater  risk  of  never  getting  a 
church.  Had  the  gentlemen  and  noblemen 
who  employed  him  as  a  tutor  known  of 
his  ideas  on  religion,  they  would  sooner 
have  introduced  a  viper  to  the  bosom  of 
their  families  than  had  anything  to  do 
with  him. 


A  CRISIS  IN  HIS  HISTORY. 


his  own  part  in  it  in  some  things. 
He  missed  the  most  valuable  part 
of  life  for  acquiring  the  foundation 
of  real  knowledge,  in  being  separa- 
ted from  his  kind;  but  that  could 
have  been  to  a  great  extent  amend- 
ed by  his  after  intercourse  with  the 
world,  however  limited,  and  by  his 
connection  with  the  India  House,  had 
he  not  shown  what  appears  to  have 
been  a  natural  deficiency  in  that 
respect ;  at  least,  he  does  not  seem 
to  have  endeavoured  to  acquire  that 
very  important  part  of  one's  educa- 
tion by  such  means  as  presented 
themselves  ;  and  the  deficiency  re- 
mained with  him  to  the  last.  His 
intercourse  with  his  fellow-creatures 
was  at  first  limited  to  a  very  few 
grown-up  people,  who  visited  his 
father  (p.  53) ;  and  when  he  went 
anywhere  it  was  generally  with  his 
father,  which  kept  him  from  asso- 
ciating with  others.  He  paid  a  visit- 
of  upwards  of  a  year  to  France,  before 
he  had  any  experience  of  English 
life,  or  "  knowledge  of  God  and 
good  manners,"  and  returned  with 
some  crude  ideas  of  things  in  both 
countries. 

"  At  this  point  concluded  what  can 
properly  be  called  my  lessons  :  when  I 
was  about  fourteen,  I  left  England  [for 
France]  for  more  than  a  year  ;  and  after 
my  return,  though  my  studies  went  on 
under  my  father's  general  direction,  he 
was  no  longer  my  school-master  "  (p. 
29).  "  I  returned  to  England  in  July, 
1821,  and  my  education  resumed  its 
ordinary  course  "  (p.  61).  "  Under  my 
father's  directions  my  studies  were  car- 
ried into  the  higher  branches  of  analytic 
psychology  "  (p.  68).  "  Having  so  little 
experience  of  English  life,  and  the  few 
people  I  knew  being  mostly  such  as  had 
public  objects,  ...  I  could  not  then 
know  or  estimate  the  difference  between 
this  manner  of  existence  [the  English] 
and  that  of  a  people  like  the  French  " 
(p.  58).  "  All  these  things  [difference 
between  English  and  French  life]  I  did 
not  perceive  till  long  afterwards  "  (p.  59). 

He  says  that  one  of  his  greatest 
amusements  during  part  of  his  child- 
hood was  experimental  science,  with- 
out ever  seeing  an  experiment ;  and 


j  that  he  devoured  treatises  on  chem- 
istry before  he  attended  a  lecture  or 
saw  an  experiment  (p.  17).  In  the 
winter  of  1821-2,  he  read  on  Roman 
Law,  Roman  Antiquities,  and  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  Blackstone; 
then  a  "  Course  of  Benthamism," 
Locke's  Essays,  Hartley's  Observa- 
tions on  Man,  some  of  the  British 
Philosophers,  etc. 

"  In  the  summer  of  1822,  I  wrote  my 
first  argumentative  essay  "  (p.  71).  "  Af- 
ter this  I  continued  to  write  papers  on 
subjects  often  very  much  beyond  my  ca- 
pacity "  (p.  72).  [A  point  worthy  of 
notice.]  "  I  had  now  also  begun  to 
converse,  on  general  subjects,  with  the 
instructed  men  with  whom  I  came  in 
contact  "  (p.  72).  In  1822-3  ne  "  form- 
ed the  plan  of  a  little  society  to  be  com- 
posed of  young  men  agreeing  in  fun- 
damental principles  —  acknowledging 
utility  as  their  standard  in  ethics  and 
politics  "  (p.  79).  [An  odd  standard  in 
morals.] 

In  May,  1823,  when  seventeen 
years  old,  he  was  engaged  by  the 
East  India  Company,  in  the  office 
of  Examiner  of  India  Correspond- 
ence, immediately  under  his  father, 
who  apparently  would  hardly  let 
him  out  of  his  sight,  "  with  the  un- 
derstanding that  I  should  be  em- 
ployed from  the  beginning  in  pre- 
paring drafts  of  despatches  [from 
the  dictation  of  others,  it  is  presum- 
ed], and  be  thus  trained  up  as  a 
successor  to  those  who  then  filled 
the  higher  Departments  of  the 
office  "  (p.  82).  And  he  says  :— "  In 
1856,  I  was  promoted  to  the  rank 
of  chief  of  the  office  in  which  I  had 
served  for  upwards  of  thirty-three 
years.  ...  I  held  this  office  as 
long  as  it  continued  to  exist,  being  a 
little  more  than  two  years"  (p.  249). 
For  a  few  years  after  his  appoint- 
ment, he  spent  his  month's  vacation 
at  his  father's  house  in  the  country, 
and  after  that  on  the  Continent, 
"chiefly  in  pedestrian  excursions, 
with  some  one  or  more  of  the  young 
men  who  were  my  chosen  compan- 
ions ;  and  at  a  later  period  in  longer 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


journeys  or  excursions,  alone  or 
with  friends."  Then  he  began  to 
write  in  the  Papers,  soon  after  which 
followed  the  foundation  of  the  West- 
minster. Review. 

There  was  an  event  in  the  history 
of  Mill,  described  at  great  length, 
which  would  have  been  interesting 
had  it  been  given  with  sufficient 
accuracy,  as  to  its  cause  and  cure, 
to  have  made  it  intelligible.  He 
styles  it  "  A  crisis  in  my  mental  his- 
tory," and  introduces  it  in  this  way : — 

"From  the  winter  of  1821  [when  he 
was  fifteen  years  of  age]  ...  I  had 
what  might  truly  be  called  an  object 
in  life — to  be  a  reformer  of  the  world. 
My  conception  of  my  own  happiness 
was  entirely  identified  with  this  ob- 
ject "  (p.  132).  But  in  the  year  1826 
"  I  was  in  a  dull  state  of  nerves,  such  as 
everybody  is  occasionally  liable  to  .  .  ; 
the  state,  I  should  think,  in  which  con- 
verts to  Methodism  usually  are,  when 
smitten  by  their  first  '  conviction  of  sin' 
[as  if  he  knew  anything  about  that  sub- 
ject]. In  this  frame  of  mind  it  occurred 
to  me  to  put  the  question  directly  to  my- 
self: '  Suppose  that  all  your  objects  in 
life  were  realized  ;  that  all  the  changes 
in  institutions  and  opinions  which  you 
are  looking  forward  to  [!]  could  be  com- 
pletely effected  at  this  very  instant; 
would  this  be  a  great  joy  and  happi- 
ness to  you?  '  "  (p.  133.) 

This  was  a  trifling  enough  ques- 
tion to  be  asked  of  himself  by  a  lad 
so  inexperienced  in  the  ways  of  the 
world,  and  which  would  have  had 
little  or  no  effect  on  a  young  man 
differently  brought  up ;  or  rather, 
his  experience  or  common  sense 
would  have  prevented  him  asking  it 
at  all.  If  he  had  inquired  about 
God,  his  soul,  and  its  future  destiny 
— calling  in  question  all  his  father 
had  taught  him  on  these  subjects — 
we  could  have  understood  his  allu- 
sion to  "converts  to  Methodism 
when  smitten  by  their  first  convic- 
tion of  sin."  That  was  a  subject 
about  which  he  was  evidently  pro- 
foundly ignorant,  and  apparently  as 
indifferent ;  nor  does  it  appear,  in 
his  many  allusions  to  religion,  that 


he  believed  he  even  had  a  soul  that 
would  exist  after  leaving  the  body, 
whether  to  be  saved  or  lost,  or  a 
God  to  be  accountable  to.  But  the 
odd  question  he  asked  himself,  he 
answered  thus : — 

"  An  irrepressible  self-consciousness 
distinctly  answered,  '  No.'  At  this  my 
heart  sank  within  me  :  the  whole  foun- 
dation on  which  my  life  was  constructed 
fell  down.  All  my  happiness  was  to 
have  been  found  in  the  continual  pur- 
suit of  this  end.  The  end  had  ceased  to 
charm,  and  how  could  there  ever  again 
be  an  interest  in  the  means  ?  I  seemed 
to  have  nothing  to  live  for.  At  first  I 
hoped  that  the  cloud  would  pass  away 
of  itself;  but  it  did  not.  A  night's  sleep, 
the  sovereign  remedy  for  the  smaller 
vexations  of  life,  had  no  effect  on  it.  I 
awoke  to  a  renewed  consciousness  of  the 
woful  fact.  I  carried  it  with  me  into  all 
companies,  into  all  occupations.  Hard- 
ly anything  had  power  to  cause  me  even 
a  few  minutes'  oblivion  of  it.  For  some 
months  the  cloud  seemed  to  grow  thicker 
and  thicker  "  (p.  1 34).  •'  In  vain  I  sought 
relief  from  my  favourite  books, .  .  .  and 
I  became  persuaded  that  my  love  of  man- 
kind, and  of  excellence  for  its  own  sake, 
had  worn  itself  out"  (p.  135),  [in  doing 
what  ?] 

"If 'I  had  loved  anyone  sufficiently 
[notwithstanding  his  '  love  of  mankind  'J 
to  make  confiding  my  griefs  a  necessity, 
I  should  not  have  been  in  the  condition 
I  was  [rather  an  odd  idea].  .  .  .  But 
there  was  no  one  on  whom  I  could 
build  the  faintest  hope  of  such  assist- 
ance. My  father,  to  whom  it  would 
have  been  natural  to  me  to  have  re- 
course in  any  practical  difficulties,  was 
the  last  person  [excepting  a  priest]  to 
whom,  in  such  a  case  as  this,  I  looked 
for  help.  Everything  convinced  me  that 
he  had  no  knowledge  of  any  such  men- 
tal state  as  I  was  suffering  from ;  and 
that  even  if  he  could  be  made  to  under- 
stand it,  he  was  not  the  physician  who 
could  heal  it.  My  education,  which  was 
wholly  his  work,  had  been  conducted 
without  any  regard  to  the  possibility  of 
its  ending  in  this  result ;  and  I  saw  no 
use  in  giving  him  the  pain  of  thinking 
that  his  plans  had  failed,  when  the  fail- 
ure was  probably  irremediable,  and,  at 
all  events,  beyond  the  power  of  his 
remedies.  Of  other  friends,  I  had  at 
that  time  none  to  whom  I  had  any  hope 
of  making  my  condition  intelligible. 


A  CRISIS  IN  HIS  HISTORY. 


[Where  was  the  family  physician  ?]  It 
was,  however,  abundantly  intelligible  to 
myself;  and  the  more  I  dwelt  upon  it 
the  more  hopeless  it  appeared  "  (p.  135). 

Then  for  four  pages  (136  to  140) 
he  goes  on  to  philosophize  on  the 
phenomenon,  and  the  cause  of  it, 
saying  far  more  than  can  be  inserted 
here ;  but  the  following  are  the  prin- 
cipal words  used,  taking  them  in 
their  order,  which,  as  now  given,  are 
nearly  as  intelligible  as  Mill's  four 
pages  on  the  question  treated  : — 

Course  of  study,  mental  and  moral 
feelings  and  qualities,  associations,  love 
and  hope,  pleasure,  action,  contempla- 
tion, pain,  ideas,  education,  experience, 
corollary,  associations  of  the  salutary 
class,  retrospect,  instruments,  praise  and 
blame,  reward  and  punishment,  intense 
associations,  desires,  aversions,  artificial 
and  casual,  intense  and  inveterate,  prac- 
tically indissoluble,  natural  tie,  habitual 
exercise,  power  of  analysis,  incredulity, 
natural  laws,  complements  and  correc- 
tives, prejudice,  dissolving  force,  perma- 
nent sequences,  sympathy,  object  of  ex- 
istence, dissolving  influence  of  analysis, 
intellectual  cultivation,  precocious  and' 
premature  analysis,  inveterate  habit, 
blase  and  indifferent,  heavy  dejection, 
melancholy  winter.* 

"  The  idiosyncrasies  of  my  education 
had  given  to  the  general  phenomenon  a 
special  character,  which  made  it  seem 
the  natural  effect  of  causes  that  it  was 
hardly  possible  for  time  to  remove  [al- 
though it  went  away  of  its  own  accord]. 
I  frequently  asked  myself,  if  I  could,  or 
if  I  was  bound  to  go  on  living,  when  life 
must  be  passed  in  this  manner.  I  gen- 
erally answered  to  myself  that  I  did  not 
think  I  could  possibly  bear  it  beyond  a 
year.  [Here  we  would  have  expected  he 
would  have  made  away  with  himself.] 
When,  however,  not  more  than  half  that 
duration  of  time  had  elapsed,  a  small  ray 


*  Mill,  as  he  left  his  region  of  recondite 
subjects  for  the  sphere  of  every-day  life, 
in  which  the  most  unsophisticated  people 
feel  at  home,  illustrated,  in  the  "  crisis  of 
his  mental  history,"  the  character  of  an 
owl  in  daylight,  with  its  large  head,  sol- 
emn eyes,  imposing  garb,  and  judicial 
air.  The  words  now  given,  as  the  essence 
of  what  he  wrote,  are  a  specimen  of  the 
owl-like  wisdom  which  he  could  display 
on  occasions. 


93 

of  light  broke  in  upon  my  gloom  "  (p. 
140). 

The  reader  will  doubtless  be  anx- 
ious to  learn  how  he  got  released 
from  this  "purgatory  on  earth," 
without  a  prayer  being  offered,  or  a 
miracle  wrought,  for  the  purpose, 
since  no  remedy  seems  to  have  been 
resorted  to  to  dispel  the  evil  spirit 
that  possessed  him.  It  was  in  this 
way :  — 

"  I  was  reading,  accidentally,  Mar- 
montel's  Memoires,  and  came  to  the 
passage  which  relates  his  father's  death, 
the  distressed  position  of  the  family, 
and  the  sudden  inspiration  by  which  he, 
then  a  mere  boy  [Mill  was  then  twenty], 
felt  and  made  them  feel  that  he  would 
be  everything  to  them — would  supply 
the  place  of  all  that  they  had  lost.  [A 
case  having  no  earthly  resemblance  to 
his  own.]  A  vivid  conception  of  the 
scene  and  its  feelings  came  over  me, 
and  I  was  moved  to  tears.  From  this 
moment  [!]  my  burden  grew  lighter. 
The  oppression  of  the  thought  that  all 
feeling  was  dead  within  me  was  gone. 
I  was  no  longer  hopeless ;  I  was  not  a 
stock  or  a  stone."  [And  then  he  be- 
came what  he  had  been  before.]  "  There 
was,  once  more,  excitement,  though  of  a 
moderate  kind,  in  exerting  myself  for 
my  opinions  and  for  the  public  good 
[and  'figuring,'  as  before].  Thus  the 
cloud  gradually  drew  off,  and  I  again 
enjoyed  life :  and  [this  is  very  signifi- 
cant] though  I  had  several  relapses, 
some  of  which  lasted  many  months,  I 
never  again  was  as  miserable  as  I  had 
been  "  (p.  141). 

Before  this  attack  of  the  "  blues  " 
came  on  him,  here  were  his  ideas : — 

"  My  conception  of  my  own  happiness 
[not  that  of  others]  was  entirely  identi- 
fied with  this  object  [that  of  being  a  re- 
former of  the  world,  from  the  time  he 
was  fifteen].  The  personal  sympathies 
I  wished  for  were  those  of  fellow-la- 
bourers in  this  enterprise.  ...  I 
was  accustomed  to  felicitate  myself  on 
the  certainty  of  a  happy  life  which  I  en- 
joyed [in  building  castles  in  the  air], 
through  placing  my  happiness  on  some- 
thing durable  and  distant,  in  which 
some  progress  might  be  always  making-, 
while  it  could  never  be  exhausted  by 
complete  attainment"  (p.  133).  [So  tar 


94 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


sensible  till  he  asked  himself  the  foolish 
question,  already  given,  when  he  "was 
in  a  dull  state  of  nerves,  such  as  every- 
body is  occasionally  liable  to  ".] 

What  has  been  commented  on 
could  easily  have  been  allowed  for 
had  it  been  written  at  the  time,  even 
by  a  man  of  education,  upwards  of 
twenty  years  of  age,  but  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  account  for  it  when  penned 
fully  forty-five  years  afterwards.  It, 
as  well  as  the  whole  Autobiography, 
goes  to  show  that  Mill  was  very  de- 
ficient in  common  sense,  and  sadly 
required  Mrs.  Taylor,  or  some  other 
person,  to  be  at  his  side,  to  keep 
him  right  in  that  respect.  Philoso- 
phers, or  some  so-called  philoso- 
phers at  least,  have  often  been  of 
that  character.  Thus  Epictetus 
writes : — 

"  Hark  ye,  child,  it  is  fit  you  should 
know  philosophy  ;  but  it  is  fit,  too,  you 
should  have  common  sense.  All  this  is 
nonsense.  You  learn  syllogisms  from 
philosophers ;  but  how  you  are  to  act, 
you  know  better  than  they." — (Boston 
Translation,  p.  66.) 

This  deficiency  in  Mill's  case  is 
well  accounted  for  by  the  education 
he  received,  and  which  he  never 
remedied  by  exertions  of  his  own, 
for  he  said,  as  we  have  already 
seen  : — "  The  education  which  my 
father  gave  me  was  in  itself  much 
more  fitted  for  training  me  to  know 
than  to  do"  (p.  37)  [or  really  think^ 
he  might  have  added].  "  I  was 
constantly  meriting  reproof  by  in- 
attention, inobservance,  and  general 
slackness  of  mind  in  matters  of  daily 
life  "  (p.  36). 

His  trouble  was  doubtless  of  a 
nervous  nature,  either  hereditary  or 
personal,  brought  on  or  superin- 
duced by  the  life,  physical  and  men- 
tal, he  had  been  leading,  although 
he  says : — 

"  For  some  years  after  this  time  [that 
is,  some  years  before  the  attack]  I  wrote 
very  little,  and  nothing  regularly,  for 
publication:  and  great  were  the  ad- 
vantages which  I  derived  from  the  in- 
termission  Had  I  gone  on 


writing,  it  would  have  much  disturbed 
the  important  transformation  in  my 
opinions  and  character,  which  took 
place  during  those  years "  [of  the 
"crisis"]  (p.  132). 

It  would  rather  have  hastened  it, 
or  made  it  more  intense.  The  ad- 
vice of  a  physician,  or  the  physical 
and  mental  habits  of  ordinary  life, 
would  doubtless  have  cured  him ; 
about  which  he  says  nothing.  The 
case  would  have  been  an  interesting 
one,  had  the  real  circumstances  con- 
nected with  it  been  given.  He  does 
not  seem  to  have  been  annoyed  by 
the  important  questions  affecting  the 
state  of  his  soul,  nor  his  prospects  in 
life,  for  these  were  well  secured  by 
his  official  appointment ;  and  he 
says  nothing  about  his  private  his- 
tory while  dwelling  under  the  roof 
of  his  despotic  father.  The  isolated 
way  in  which  he  had  been  brought 
up,  his  exclusive  habits  afterwards, 
and  his  peculiar  education  and 
studies,  were  doubtless  the  causes 
of  the  disease  manifesting  itself; 
but  the  evil  effects  of  these  should  + 
have  been  to  some  extent  counter- 
acted by  the  exercise  going  to  and 
from  the  India  House,  his  short 
hours,  and  his  duties  there,  for  these 
were 

"  Sufficiently  intellectual  not  to  be  dis- 
tasteful drudgery,  without  being  such  as 
to  cause  any  strain  upon  the  mental 
powers  of  a  person  used  to  abstract 
thought,  or  the  labour  of  careful  liter- 
ary composition  "  (p.  83). 

In  giving  an  account  of  his  edu- 
cation, he  said,  as  we  have  already 
seen  : — "  I  started,  I  may  fairly  say, 
with  an  advantage  of  a  quarter  of  a 
century  over  my  contemporaries  " 
(p.  31);  and  that  "most  boys  or 
youths  who  have  had  much  know- 
ledge drilled  into  them  [but  he  said 
that  that  was  not  the  case  with  him] 
are  crammed  with  mere  facts,  and 
with  the  opinions  or  phrases  of  other 
people,  and  these  are  accepted  as  a 
substitute  for  the  power  to  form 
opinions  of  their  own  "  (p.  31). 
And  here  is  what  he  said  of  himself 


A  CRISIS  IN  HIS  HISTOR  Y. 


in  the  "  Crisis  in  his  mental  his- 
tory," in  his  twenty-first  year : — 

"  I  was  thus,  as  I  said  to  myself,  left 
stranded  at  the  commencement  of  my 
voyage,  with  a  well-equipped  ship  and  a 
rudder,  but  no  sail  [or  ballast] ;  without 
any  real  desire  for  the  ends  which  I  had 
been  so  carefully  fitted  out  to  work  for 
[for  which  everyone  was  apparently  to 
blame  but  himself] :  no  delight  in  vir- 
tue or  the  general  good,  but  also  just  as 
little  in  anything  else  [as  if  he  had  been 
'  a  stock  or  a  stone '].  The  fountains  of 
vanity  and  ambition  seemed  to  have 
dried  up  within  me,  as  completely  as 
those  of  benevolence  [for  whom  ?] .  I  had 
had  (as  I  reflected)  some  gratification 

of  vanity  at  too  early  an  age 

Like  all  pleasures  enjoyed  too  soon,  it 
had  made  me  blase  and  indifferent  to 
the  pursuit"  (p.  139).  [Here  we  have 
a  strange  jumble  of  love  of  himself  and 
love  of  his  kind.] 

All  this  was  said  while  he  was  in 
the  "  blues,"  and  it  might  have 
meant  little  or  nothing,  or  been 
part  of  the  "  blues  "  themselves ; 
still  he  attributes  what  he  said  to 
his  education,  which  had  failed  to 
create 

"  Feelings  in  sufficient  strength  to  re- 
sist the  dissolving  influence  of  analysis, 
while  the  whole  course  of  my  intellectual 
cultivation  had  made  precocious  and 
premature  analysis  the  inveterate  habit 
of  my  mind  "  (p.  138). 

But  he  never  forsook  his  first  love 
— his  darling  analysis,  for  thus  he 
wrote  of  it : — 

"  I  never  turned  recreant  to  intellec- 
tual culture,  or  ceased  to  consider  the 
power  and  practice  of  analysis,  as  an  es- 
sential condition  both  of  individual  and 
of  social  [?]  improvements.  But  I 
thought  that  it  had  consequences  which 
required  to  be  corrected,  by  joining 
other  kinds  of  cultivation  with  it"  (p. 
143). 

The  crisis,  however,  led  him  to 
"  adopt  a  theory  of  life  very  unlike 
that  on  which  I  had  before  acted, 
and  having  much  in  common  with 
what  at  the  time  [when  in  his 
twenty-first  year]  I  certainly  had 


95 


never  heard  of  [now  we  have  a 
great  discovery],  the  anti-self-con- 
sciousness theory  of  Carlyle "  (p. 
142),  that  is,  that  happiness  should 
not  be  the  direct  end  (for  then  it 
would  be  selfishness) ;  and  we  have 
a  good  deal  of  philosophizing  on 
the  point,  the  conclusion  of  which 
was,  that  this  theory  —  which  he 
"certainly  had  never  heard  of" — 
"  now  became  the  basis  of  my  phil- 
osophy of  life "  (p.  143).  This 
seems  to  be  that  happiness  should 
not  consist  in  contemplating  an  ob- 
ject as  an  end,  but  in  using  the 
means  to  reach  it — a  true  enough 
principle  if  applied  to  the  Creator, 
and  to  our  fellow-creatures  individu- 
ally and  collectively,  that  is,  that 
we  should  place  our  happiness  in 
the  discharge  of  our  duties  to  them, 
without  regard  to  our  own  ultimate 
advantage  or  profit,  or  the  passing 
pleasure  or  pain  it  may  give  us  in 
using  the  means  ;  although  few 
would  question  the  right  to  place 
our  happiness  in  both  the  object 
and  the  means  of  attaining  to  it,  if 
both  are  disinterested  in  their  na- 
ture. If  the  happiness  has  no  re- 
ference to  the  Creator  or  our  fellow- 
creature,  but  merely  to  such  of  our 
own  affairs  as  the  laws  of  God,  so- 
ciety, and  the  land  approve  of,  or  do 
not  disapprove  of,  then  it  consists  in 
contemplating  an  object  and  in  using 
reasonable  and  virtuous  means  to 
attain  it;  both  the  object  aimed  at 
and  the  means  of  reaching  it  con- 
stituting the  happiness,  although, 
when  the  object  has  been  secured, 
very  little  happiness  is  frequently 
found  to  have  been  gained.  In 
short,  Mill's  anti-self-consciousness 
theory  seems  to  be  but  one  of  the 
many  instances  of  "  tumbling "  to 
be  found  in  his  Autobiography  and 
history  generally. 

Mill  then  goes  on  to  say  that  he 
added  to  his  limited  dry  and  ab- 
stract studies  a  number  of  others, 
such  as  cultivation  of  the  feelings, 
and  maintaining  a  due  balance 
among  the  faculties. 


96 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


"  The  cultivation  of  the  feelings  be- 
came one  of  the  cardinal  points  in  my 
ethical  and  philosophical  creed.  And 
my  thoughts  and  inclinations  turned  in 
an  increasing  degree  towards  whatever 
seemed  capable  of  being  instrumental 
to  that  object "  (p.  144)  [such  as  poet- 
ry, but  nothing  in  regard  to  religion]. 

"  The  only  one  of  the  imaginative  arts 
in  which  I  had  from  childhood  taken 
great  pleasure  was  music.  .... 
But,  like  all  my  pleasurable  susceptibili- 
ties, it  was  suspended  during  the  gloomy 
period.  I  had  sought  relief  again  and 
again  from  this  quarter,  but  found  none,  j 
After  the  tide  had  turned,  and  I  was  in 
process  of  recovery,  I  had  been  helped 
forward  by  music,  but  in  a  much  less 
elevated  manner"  (p.  144),  for  "  I  was 
seriously  tormented  by  the  thought  of 
the  exhaustibility  of  musical  combina- 
tions  This  source  of  anxi- 
ety may,  perhaps,  be  thought  to  re- 
semble that  of  the  philosophers  of  La- 
puta,  who  feared  lest  the  sun  should  be 
burnt  out"  (p.  145). 

This  cultivation  of  the  feelings, 
which  began  at  so  late  an  age,  con- 
trasts finely  with  his  father's  ideas 
on  the  subject: — 

"  He  regarded  as  an  aberration  of  the 
moral  standard  of  modern  times,  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  ancients,  the 
great  stress  laid  upon  feeling.  Feel- 
ings, as  such,  he  considered  to  be  no 
proper  subjects  of  praise  or  blame" 
[whatever  the  occasion  of  their  exercise] 
(p.  49).  "  My  father's  teachings  tended 
to  the  undervaluing  of  feeling  "  (p.  1 10). 
"  I  needed  to  be  made  to  feel  that  there 
was  real  permanent  happiness  in  tran- 
quil contemplation.  Wordsworth  taught 
me  this,  not  only  without  turning  away 
from,  but  with  a  greatly  increased  inter- 
est in,  the  common  feelings  and  com- 
mon destiny  of  human  beings.  And  the 
delight  which  these  poems  gave  me 
proved  that,  with  culture  of  this  sort  [hu- 
man affections],  there  was  nothing  to 
dread  from  the  most  confirmed  habit 
of  analysis.  .  .  The  result  was  that 
I  gradually,  but  completely,  emerged 
from  my  habitual  depression,  and  was 
never  again  subject  to  it  "  (p.  148). 

"  Although  we  were  generally  in  the 
right,  as  against  those  who  were  op- 
posed to  us,  the  effect  was  that  the  cul- 
tivation of  feeling  (except  the  feelings 
of  public  and  private  duties)  was  not 


in  much  esteem  among  us  [the  little  so- 
ciety with  utility  for  its  standard  in 
ethics  and  politics],  and  had  very  little 
place  in  the  thoughts  of  most  of  us,  my- 
self in  particular  "  (p.  1 1 1).  "  I  disliked 
any  sentiments  in  poetry  which  I  should 
have  disliked  in  prose  ;  and  that  included 
a  great  deal.  And  I  was  wholly  blind 
to  its  place  in  human  culture,  as  a  means 
of  educating  the  feelings  "  (p.  112).  But 
after  the  crisis  "  it  so  fell  out  that  the 
merits  of  Wordsworth  were  the  occasion 
of  my  public  declaration  of  my  new  way 
of  thinking,  and  separation  from  those 
of  my  habitual  companions  who  had  not 
undergone  a  similar  change  "  (p.  149). 

It  is  difficult  to  assign  a  reason 
for  his  separating  from  his  friends 

who  had  not  undergone  a  similar 
change."  If  his  state  had  really 
been  that  in  which  "converts  to 
Methodism  usually  are  when  smit- 
ten by  their  first  conviction  of  sin," 
leading  him  to  "  renounce  the  world, 
the  flesh  and  the  devil,"  it  could  be 
understood  why  he  should  have  sep- 
arated from  his  habitual  companions; 
but  his  behaviour  was  incomprehen- 
sible, unless  we  hold  that  Mill,  in 
addition  to  going  to  extremes,  like 
the  pendulum  of  a  clock,  was  quar- 
relsome, domineering,  intolerant, 
supercilious,  or  touchy  in  his  dispo- 
sition. He  admitted  that  a  schism 
took  place  between  him  and  Roe- 
buck, which  widened  from  that  time 
more  and  more,  the  chief  divergence 
in  the  beginning  relating  to  the  "  cul- 
tivation of  the  feelings,"  his  new 
hobby  (p.  150). 

All  that  Mill  said  of  the  "  crisis 'in 
his  mental  history"  could  have  been 
stated  in  a  very  few  words.  As  already 
mentioned,  it  was  doubtless  a  nerv- 
ous disorder,  which  (it  would  be  ab- 
surd to  deny  it)  could  not  have  been 
cured  by  his  merely  "  reading  acci- 
dentally "  a  short  passage  in  Mar- 
monteVs  Memoir  es.  It  had  the  effect, 
however,  of  directing  his  attention  to 
other  subjects  than  his  grinding  anal- 
ysis. The  treatment  of  it  should 
have  extended  to  internal  and  ex- 
ternal remedies,  exercises,  amuse- 
ments, change  of  air,  and  diversified 


HIS  WIFE. 


97 


society  and  reading,  not  omitting  re- 
ligion, however  much  that  seemed 
to  be  foreign  to  Mill's  nature ;  one 
or  all  being  administered,  as  the 
case  called  for.  In  other  words,  the 
cultivation  of  a  little  versatility  in 
mind  and  body,  and  a  "  shaking-up 
generally,"  was  what  he  required. 

IV. 

HIS   WIFE. 

John  Stuart  Mill's  Autobiography 
begins  thus  : — 

"  It  seems  proper  that  I  should  prefix 
to  the  following  biographical  sketch, 
some  mention  of  the  reasons  which 
have  made  me  think  it  desirable  that 
I  should  leave  behind  me  such  a  me- 
morial of  so  uneventful  a  life  as  mine. 
.  .  .  But  a  motive  which  weighs 
more  with  me  than  either  of  these,  is  a 
desire  to  make  acknowledgment  of  the 
debts  which  my  intellectual  and  moral 
development  owes  to  other  persons  ; 
some  of  them  of  recognized  eminence, 
others  less  known  than  they  deserve  to 
be,  and  the  one  to  whom  most  of  all  is 
due,  one  whom  the  world  had  no  op- 
portunity of  knowing  "  (p.  2),  [viz.,  his 
wife]. 

He  says  he  was  introduced  to  her 
in  1830,  when  he  was  in  his  twenty- 
fifth,  and  she  in  her  twenty-third 
year  (p.  184),  and  he  was  married  to 
her  after  a  friendship  of  twenty-one 
years.  But  it  was  "  years  "  after  his 
introduction  to  her  before  his  "  ac- 
quaintance with  her  became  at  all 
intimate  or  confidential,"  although 
he  "very  soon  felt  her  to  be  the 
most  admirable  person  he  had  ever 
known  "  (p.  185).  He  seems  to  have 
fought  shy  of  her  at  first,  and  it  is 
difficult  to  think  how  he  could  have 
got  so  far  as  he'  did,  unless  the  na- 
ture of  things  was  reversed  by  her 
forcing  the  acquaintance  to  a  head. 
He  told  us  of  the  solicitude  of  his 
father  in  keeping  him  from  the  "  cor- 
rupting influence  which  boys  ex- 
ercise over  boys,"  and  the  conse- 
quent "contagion  of  vulgar  modes 
of  thought  and  feeling,"  as  well  as 
the  "  demoralizing  effects  of  school 
7 


life,"  but  nothing  of  the  refining  or 
seductive  influences  of  girls  or  fe- 
male society.  There  seems  every 
reason  to  think  that  this  acquaint- 
ance, from  the  date  of  its  commence- 
ment in  1830,  till  the  death  of  his 
father  in  1836,  or  at  least  the  influ- 
ence which  the  lady  exercised  over 
him,  was  kept  secret  from  his  jeal- 
ous and  despotic  parent ;  for  it  is 
hardly  possible  that  he  would  have 
tolerated  any  one,  and  especially  a 
woman,  the  wife  of  another  man,  to 
come  in  between  him  and  his  son  in 
the  formation  of  his  mind.  Mill's 
acquaintance  with  female  society  at 
that  time  must  have  been  exceed- 
ingly limited,  and  it  seems  to  have 
continued  so  till  the  end.  Hence 
the  adoration  he  lavished  on  Mrs. 
Taylor,  as  we  have  seen,  making  her 
memory  his  religion,  and  almost  ex- 
hausting the  English  language  in  her 
praises.  She  seems  to  have  been  a 
woman  of  decided  talent  and  orig- 
inality, tact  and  accomplishments, 
sufficient  at  least  to  have  enabled  her, 
in  many  things,  to  turn  him  round 
her  little  finger.  But  we  must  de- 
duct a  large — indeed  an  extraordi- 
narily large — discount  from  the  draft 
he  has  drawn  on  posterity  in  favour 
of  her  capacity  and  divine  qualities 
— no,  not  divine  qualities,  for  she 
(like  himself)  apparently  recognized 
nothing  as  divine.  However,  it  is 
time  to  introduce  the  goddess  her- 
self. Mill  says  that  she  was 

"  Married  at  an  early  age  to  a  most 
upright,  brave,  and  honourable  man,  of 
liberal  opinions  and  good  education,  but 
without  the  intellectual  or  artistic  tastes 
which  would  have  made  him  a  compan- 
ion for  her,  though  a  steady  and  affec- 
tionate friend,  for  whom  she  had  true 
esteem,  and  the  strongest  affection 
through  life,  and  whom  she  most  deeply 
lamented  when  dead  "  (p.  185). 

"  Her  intellectual  gifts  did  but  minisr 
ter  to  a  moral  character  at  once  the  no- 
blest and  the  best  balanced,  which  I 
have  ever  met  with  in  life.  Her  unsel- 
fishness was  not  that  of  a  taught  system 
of  duties  [was  it  inspired  ?],  but  of  a 
heart  which  thoroughly  identified  itself 


98 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


with  the  feelings  of  others,  and  often 
went  to  excess  in  consideration  for  them 
by  imaginatively  investing  their  feelings 
with  the  intensity  of  its  own.  The  pas- 
sion of  justice  might  have  been  thought  , 
to  be  her  strongest  feeling,  but  for  her 
boundless  generosity,  and  a  lovingness 
ever  ready  to  pour  itself  forth  upon  any 
or  all  human  beings  who  were  capable 
of  giving  the  smallest  feeling  in  return. 
The  rest  of  her  moral  characteristics 
were  such  as  naturally  accompany  these 
qualities  of  mind  and  heart :  the  most 
genuine  modesty  combined  with  the 
loftiest  pride  ;  a  simplicity  and  sincerity 
which  were  absolute  towards  all  who  were 
fit  to  receive  them  ;  the  utmost  scorn  of 
whatever  was  mean  and  cowardly,  and 
a  burning  indignation  at  any  thing  brutal 
or  tyrannical,  faithless,  or  dishonourable 
in  conduct  and  character"  (p.  187). 

Why  should  such  an  exalted  be- 
ing— who  apparently  never  commit- 
ted a  sin,  and  would  have  given 
away  kingdoms,  if  she  had  had  them 
— forsake  a  husband  for  whom  she 
had  the  u  strongest  affection  through 
life,"  and  "  most  deeply  lamented 
when  dead,"  and,  in  one  sense  or 
other,  "  take  up  "  with  Mill  for  many 
years  during  the  lifetime  of  that  hus- 
band? Was  it  merely  because  he 
had  not  "  the  intellectual  or  artistic 
tastes  which  would  have  made  him 
a  companion  for  her?" 

"  This  incomparable  friend  "  "  lived 
mostly  with  one  young  daughter  in  a 
quiet  part  of  the  country  [in  a  house  of 
her  own  or  her  husband's  ?J,  and  only 
occasionally  in  town  with  her  first  hus- 
band, Mr.  Taylor.  I  visited  her  equally 
in  both  places  ;  and  was  greatly  indebt- 
ed to  the  strength  of  character  which 
enabled  her  [was  he  the  tempter?]  to 
disregard  the  false  [but  natural]  inter- 
pretations liable  to  be  put  [and  that 
were  actually  put]  on  the  frequency  of 
my  visits  to  her  while  living  generally 
apart  from  Mr.  Taylor  [did  she  leave 
him  and  return  to  him  at  pleasure  ?],  and 
on  our  occasionally  travelling  together 
[with  or  without  the  husband's  consent 
or  approval?],  though  in  all  other  re- 
spects our  conduct  during  these  years 
gave  not  the  slightest  ground  [or  guar- 
antee beyond  their  own  assertions]  for 
any  other  supposition  than  the  true  one, 
that  our  relation  to  each  other  at  that 


time  was  one  of  strong  affection  and 
confidential  intimacy  only  [with  which 
the  husband  had  no  right  to  interfere]. 
For  though  we  did  not  consider  the  or- 
dinances of  society  binding  on  a  subject 
so  entirely  personal  [what  does  society 
exist  for  ?  what  '  subjects  '  does  it  '  bind  ' 
but v  personal  ones  ?'],  we  did  feel  bound 
that  our  conduct  should  be  such  as  in 
no  degree  to  bring  discredit  on  her  hus- 
band, nor  therefore  on  herself"  (p.  229). 
[But  how  he  did  that  to  the  satisfaction 
of  the  public  is  not  stated.] 

We  can  easily  believe  that  the 
man  who  wrote  this,  in  addition  to 
his  never  having  had  any  reli- 
gion, or  feeling  of  religion,  as  he 
admitted,  was  equally  destitute  of 
any  really  moral  or  manly  sensi- 
bility. Apart  from  the  solemn  obli- 
gations of  the  marriage  contract  and 
relation,  the  common  instinct  of  hu- 
manity, even  when  found  in  the 
breast  of  a  savage,  would  condemn 
him  ;  for  all  nations  have  recognized 
the  binding  nature  of  marriage  in 
every  aspect  of  it,  to  prevent  the 
wild  disorder,  even  bloodshed,  that 
would  ensue  from  its  conditions 
being  violated  even  to  the  extent 
admitted.  Mill  said  in  substance 
that  he  took  great  care  to  prevent 
the  world  from  forming  an  idea  of 
actual  criminality  in  the  relation, 
but  told  us  nothing  of  how  he  ac- 
complished that,  or  how  he  could 
have  convinced  society  that  nothing 
criminal  had  resulted.  If  there  is 
anything  in  the  demands  of  society 
binding  on  us,  it  is  what  refers  to 
marriage  in  particular,  and  the  sexes 
in  general ;  the  common  instinct  of 
mankind  requiring  no  explanations 
on  the  subject.  It  is  wonderful 
how  even  the  dumb  animals  respect 
a  similar  habit;  the  slightest  in- 
fringement of  it  resulting  in  the 
most  terrific  combats.  Mill's  nature, 
notwithstanding  his  professions,  and 
many  of  his  actions,  to  the  contrary, 
was  apparently  nothing  but  selfish- 
ness, as  particularly  illustrated  by 
his  relation  with  Mrs.  Taylor,  which 
seems  to  have  been  begun  or  carried 
on,  with  a  total  disregard  for  the 


HIS  WIFE. 


99 


rights  and  feelings  of  her  husband  ; 
and  mainly  that  he  might  have  her 
as  a  tutor  to  prompt  or  coach  him, 
to  make  a  better  show  before  the 
world ;  which  effect  it  did  have,  as 
he  afterwards  admitted.  Mill  was 
anything  but  candid  or  straightfor- 
ward in  his  account  of  his  relation 
with  this  lady,  for,  as  a  writer  in 
Eraser's  Magazine,  for  December, 
says : — 

"  It  is  but  right  to  add  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  concurrent  testimony  of  his 
friends,  Mr.  Taylor  disapproved  of  the 
intimacy ;  that,  indeed,  it  embittered 
the  latter  years  of  his  life— a  fact  of 
which  Mill  could  not  have  been  igno- 
rant." 

And  a  writer  in  the  Edinburgh 
Review,  for  January,  says  : — 

"  From  the  moment  he  devoted  him- 
self exclusively  to  what  he  calls  '  the 
most  valuable  friendship  of  my  life/ 
these  ties  were  broken.  Whatever  may 
have  been  their  regard  for  Mill,  these 
ladies  found  it  impossible  to  countenance 
or  receive  a  woman  who  had  placed  her- 
self in  so  equivocal  a  position.  ,  .  . 
Mill,  of  course,  took  her  part,  and  in- 
deed was  absolutely  governed  by  her; 
and  the  consequence  was  a  total  inter- 
ruption of  intercourse  with  some  of 
those  who  had  been  to  him  through  life 
the  kindest  of  friends.  So  bitter  was 
his  own  feeling  on  the  subject,  that 
under  no  circumstance  would  he  allow 
this  intercourse  to  be  renewed,  even  by 
letter  "  [as  if  he  had  been  the  greatly 
injured  man]. 

This  writer  in  the  Edinburgh  Re- 
view little  more  than  hints  at  the 
quarrel  between  Mill  and  his  friends, 
Mrs.  Grote,  Mrs.  Charles  Buller, 
and  Mrs.  John  Austin,  on  Mrs. 
Taylor's  account.  It  would  appear 
that  he  had  attempted  to  obtrude 
her  acquaintance  upon  them,  and 
that  they  naturally  objected  to  her 
company  under  the  circumstances. 
It  is  said  that 

"  She,  like  all  women  who  find  them- 
selves at  war  with  society,  and  who 
have  braved  its  prejudices  and  fts  laws, 
resented  the  exclusion  she  had  drawn 
upon  herself,  *he  more  so  as  it  was  al- 


ways maintained  that  there  was  nothing 
criminal  in  her  intercourse  with  Mill '' 
[of  which  she  gave  the  world  no  guaran- 
tee]. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  Mill  took 
her  part,  and  in  turn  resented  the 
exclusion.  This  was  quite  in  keep- 
ing with  his  idea  and  theory  of 
"liberty,"  propounded  in  his  writings, 
that  he  and  Mrs.  Taylor,  and  all  like 
them,  should  do  or  advocate  pretty 
much  what  they  pleased,  without 
any  one  having  the  right  to  find 
fault  with  them,  or  decline  their  so- 
ciety, under  the  charge  of  oppres- 
sion. If  they  had  kept  aloof  from 
society,  and  let  society  come  to 
them  on  their  own  terms,  and  said 
nothing  about  the  matter,  there 
would  have  been  some  reason  in 
their  action ;  but  to  attempt  to 
break  down  the  laws  of  society  in  so 
delicate  and  important  a  matter  as 
marriage  and  the  relation  of  the 
sexes,  was  to  upset  the  very  exist- 
ence of  society  itself.  Such  things 
are  to  women  the  breath  of  their 
nostrils,  and  the  guardians  of  every 
domestic  virtue.  In  this  matter 
both  Mill  and  Mrs.  Taylor  showed 
that  they  were  very  deficient  in  the 
finer  feelings  of  human  nature,  and 
really  regarded  nothing  but  their 
convenience  and  selfishness  in  their 
behaviour;  and  particularly  when 
they  advocated  such  anti-society 
doctrines  in  their  writings.  Civil- 
ization, indeed,  consists  mainly  in 
renouncing  the  exercise  of  some 
of  our  natural  rights  in  favour  of  so- 
ciety, while  we  find  Mill  claiming 
what  nature  had  never  given  him, 
viz  :  the  right  to  "  lead  about "  an- 
other man's  wife.  This  is  but  one 
commentary  on  all  his  boasting  of 
what  he  and  the  lady  in  question 
did  for  "  human  improvement." 

As  I  have  already  said,  Mrs.  Tay- 
lor seems  to  have  been  a  woman  of 
no  religious  belief,  for,  with  his  usual 
indefiniteness  of  language,  Mill 
speaks  of  "  her  complete  emancipa- 
tion from  every  kind  of  superstition 
(including  that  which  attributes  a 


100 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


pretended  perfection  to  the  order  of 
nature  and  the  universe)"  (p.  186). 
If  she  had  any  religion,  she  does  not 
seem,  with  the  influence  she  possess- 
ed, to  have  tried  to  bring  him  over 
to  it,  or  to  have  made  any  impres- 
sion on  him.  She  also  maintained 
"  an  earnest  protest  against  many 
things  which  are  still  part  of  the 
established  constitution  of  society  " 
(p.  1 86)  [not  stating,  as  usual,  what 
these  were],  which  "resulted  not 
from  the  hard  intellect  [or  hard 
heart  ?]  but  from  strength  of  noble 
and  elevated  feelings,"  that  "  co-ex- 
isted with  a  highly  reverential  na- 
ture "  (p.  1 86),  while  "making  the 
broadest  distinction  between  mala 
in  se  and  mere  mala prohibita  [if  not 
by  God,  by  whom  prohibited?] — 
between  acts  giving  evidence  of  in- 
trinsic badness  in  feeling  and  charac- 
ter [still  very  indefinite],  and  those 
which  are  only  violations  of  conven- 
tions either  good  or  bad ;  violations 
which,  whether  in  themselves  right 
or  wrong,  [such  as  ?]  are  capable  of 
being  committed  by  persons  in  every 
other  respect  loveableor  admirable" 
(p.  1 88). 

This  is  the  only  allusion,  indirect- 
ly made,  to  the  feelings  entertained 
by  society  regarding  his  connec- 
tion with  Mrs.  Taylor,  as  expressed 
by  the  writers  in  Fraser's  Magazine 
and  the  Edinburgh  Review.  Here 
we  have  no  admission  of  any  law  by 
which  he  would  be  bound  ;  no  moral 
law  of  God  or  society  (for,  with  his 
principles,  he  could  have  totally 
disregarded  the  latter) ;  none  except 
his  interest,  his  vanity,  or  his  sove- 
reign caprice ;  and  he  dismisses  the 
subject  when  he  says : — 

"  The  reader  whom  these  things  do 
not  interest  has  only  himself  to  blame 
if  he  reads  farther,  and  I  do  not  desire 
any  other  indulgence  from  him  than 
that  of  bearing  in  mind,  that  for  him 
these  pages  were  not  written  "  (p.  2). 

"  This  friendship  has  been  the 
honour  [?]  and  chief  blessing  of  my  ex- 
istence, as  well  as  the  source  of  a  great 
part  of  all  that  I  have  attempted  to  do, 
or  hope  to  effect  hereafter  for  human 


improvement  "  (p.  184).  "In  thought 
and  intellect,  Shelley,  so  far  as  his 
powers  were  developed  in  his  short  life, 
was  but  a  child  compared  with  what  she 
ultimately  became"  (p.  186).  "She 
possessed  in  combination  the  qualities 
which,  in  all  other  persons  whom  I  had 
known,  I  had  been  only  too  happy  to 
find  singly  "  (p.  186).  "What  I  owe, 
even  intellectually,  to  her,  is  in  its  detail 
almost  infinite  "  (p.  189). 

With  his  usual  want  of  particu- 
lars, and  indefiniteness  of  language, 
Mill  does  not  state  the  circum- 
stances under  which  she  separated 
from  her  husband ;  nor  whether  she 
had  an  allowance  from  him  to  sup- 
port herself  and  daughter,  and  enter- 
tain her  friends.  The  woman  who 
would  leave  her  husband  in  the 
way  she  seems  to  have  done  would 
not  only  accept  an  allowance,  but 
demand  it.  If  she  did  not  have  that, 
or  had  no  means  of  her  own,  Mill 
was  certainly  bound  in  honour  to 
maintain  his  "  Platonic  love,'*  for 
being  his  "  guide,  philosopher  and 
friend,"  and  for  the  great  service 
she  was  to  him  in  his  literary  enter- 
prises (to  say  nothing  of  the  social 
disgrace  she  incurred  on  his  ac- 
count) ;  and  if  these  were  not  re- 
munerative, he  should  have  fallen 
back  on  his  official  salary  for  the 
purpose.  "  Thou  shalt  not  covet 
thy  neighbour's  wife,"  was  a  com- 
mand which  Mill  did  not  recognize. 
Indeed,  he  said  in  substance  that 
that  was  none  of  society's  business. 
"  We  did  not  consider  the  ordi- 
nances of  society  [or  any  other 
ordinances?]  binding  on  a  subject  so 
entirely  personal  "  (p.  229),  "whether 
they  were  good  or  bad,  right  or 
wrong."  Nothing  seems  to  have 
been  thought  of  the  poor  abandoned 
man,  for  whom  he  "  had  the  sin- 
cerest  respect,  and  she  the  strongest 
affection  "  (p.  240).  But  at  last  there 
"  took  place  the  most  important 
events  of  my  private  life  "  (p.  240) 
— the  death  of  Mr.  Taylor  in  July, 
1849,  and  his  marriage  in  April, 
1851,  to  his  widow  ;  a  "  lady  whose 
incomparable  worth  had  made  her 


HIS  WIFE. 


101 


friendship  the  greatest  source  to  me, 
both  of  happiness  and  improvement, 
[and  misery  to  her  husband  ?]  dur- 
ing many  years  in  which  we  never 
expected  [while  the  husband  lived] 
to  be  in  any  closer  relation  to  one 
another"  (p.  240).  Neither  seems 
to  have  had  the  courage,  whatever 
might  have  been  their  inclination,  to 
brave  the  law  of  society  altogether, 
or  the  law  of  the  land,  which  makes 
itself  respected,  whether  people  be- 
lieve in  the  existence  of  God,  or  the 
law  of  God,  or  the  laws  of  society 
or  not. 

"  Ardently  as  I  should  have  aspired 
to  this  complete  union  of  our  lives  at 
any  time  in  the  course  of  my  existence 
at  which  it  had  been  practicable  [he 
waited  nineteen  long  years,  and  then 
took  nearly  two  to  make  up  his  mind],  I, 
as  much  as  my  wife,  would  far  rather 
have  foregone  that  privilege  for  ever  than 
have  owed  it  to  the  premature  death  of 
one  [he  was  certainly  in  the  way]  for 
whom  I  had  the  sincerest  respect,  and 
she  the  strongest  affection.  [How  con- 
siderate and  disinterested  they  were  !] 
That  event,  however,  having  taken 
place  in  July,  1849,  it  was  granted  to 
me  to  derive  from  that  evil  [?]  my  own 
greatest  good,  by  adding  to  the  partner- 
ship of  thought,  feeling  and  writing 
which  had  long  existed,  a  partnership 
of  our  entire  existence  "  (p.  240).  [He 
that  excuses  accuses  himself,  as  the  pro- 
verb runs.]  •'  For  seven  and  a  half 
years  that  blessing  was  mine  ;  for  seven 
and  a  half  only !  I  can  say  nothing 
which  could  describe,  even  in  the 
faintest  manner,  what  that  loss  was  and 
is  "  (p.  240).  "  Her  memory  is  to  me  a 
religion,  and  her  approbation  the  stan- 
dard by  which,  summing  up  as  it  does 
all  worthiness,  I  endeavour  to  regulate 
my  life"  (p.  251).  [Nothing  more 
could  have  been  said  of  her  had  she 
been  a  divinity.] 

She  died  at  Avignon  on  the  3d 
of  November,  1858,  and  over  her 
grave  was  placed  the  following  epi- 
taph :— 

"  Her  great  and  loving  heart,  her  no- 
ble soul,  her  clear,  powerful,  and  com- 
prehensive intellect,  made  her  the  guide 
and  support,  the  instructor  in  wisdom, 
and  the  example  in  goodness,  as  she 


was  the  sole  earthly  delight  [!]  of  those 
who  had  the  happiness  to  belong  to  her. 
As  earnest  for  all  public  good  as  she 
was  generous  and  devoted  to  all  who 
surrounded  her,  her  influence  has  been 
felt  in  many  of  the  greatest  improve- 
ments of  the  age,  and  will  be  in  those 
still  to  come.  [What  were  they  ?] 
Were  there  even  a  few  hearts  and  intel- 
lects like  hers,  this  earth  would  already 
become  the  hoped-for  heaven." 

The  writer  ii\  the  Edinburgh  Re- 
view, alluded  to,  makes  the  follow- 
ing very  just  remark : — 

"  Of  the  lady  herself,  who  is  thus 
placed  on  the  pinnacle  of  all  excellence 
by  her  enthusiastic  lover,  we  can  only 
say  that  nobody  else,  that  we  have  ever 
heard  of,  amongst  those  who  knew  her, 
discovered  in  her  these  lofty  gifts." 

It  would  have  been  interesting  to 
have  known  what  kind  of  epitaph 
her  first  husband  would  have  put 
on  her  tombstone,  had  he  survived 
her.  So  deficient  does  Mill  seem  to 
have  been  in  looking  at  two  sides — 
not  to  say  all  sides — of  a  question, 
and  so  devoid  of  any  kind  of  reli- 
gion, or  really  moral  or  manly  sensi- 
bility, that  the  idea  of  his  idol  get- 
ting tired  of  him  and  casting  him 
adrift,  for  some  other  attraction  or 
"  affinity,"  does  not  appear  to  have 
entered  his  imagination.  Had  she 
treated  him  in  that  way  he  would 
probably  have  poisoned,  hanged,  or 
in  some  way  made  away  with  him- 
self, as  he  seems  to  have  contem- 
plated doing  when  in  the  "  crisis  of 
his  mental  history." 

It  is  very  strange  that  a  man  of 
Mill's  education,  reading,  and  en- 
dowments, should,  at  such  a  mature 
age,  have  put  such  extravagant  lan- 
guage on  record  in  regard  to  his 
wife,  who  must  have  been  known  to 
many  besides  himself.  He  doubt- 
less never  heard  of  anything  like  it 
connected  with  any  human  being; 
and  the  idea  never  seems  to  have  oc- 
j  curred  to  him  to  ask  what  the  world 
would  think  of  it,  or  what  is  its 
estimate  of  epitaphs  in  general. 
His  course  indicated  either  the 


102 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


grossest  ignorance  of  human  na- 
ture, or  the  fiercest  defiance  of  its 
common  sense  and  moral  sentiments. 
It  is  interesting  tq^notice  what  he 
says  about  this  earth  becoming  the 
"  hoped-for  heaven  ;"  for  even  athe- 
ists do  not  like  the  idea  of  burying 
a  friend  as  one  would  put  a  favourite 
animal  near  an  apple-tree. 

''  I  bought^a  cottage  as  close  as  possi- 
ble to  the  place  where  she  is  buried, 
and  there  her  daughter  (my  fellow-suf- 
ferer and  now  my  chief  comfort)  and  I 
live  constantly  during  a  great  portion  of 
the  year  "  (p.  25 1).  "  And  though  the  in- 
spirer  of  my  best  thoughts  was  no  longer 
with  me,  I  was  not  alone :  she  had  left 
a  daughter,  my  step-daughter,  whose 
ever-growing  and  ripening  talents  from 
that  day  to  this  have  been  devoted  to 
the  same  great  purposes.  Surely  no  one 
eTer  before  was  so  fortunate  as,  after 
such  a  loss  as  mine,  to  draw  another 
prize  in  the  lottery  of  life.  Whoever, 
either  now  or  hereafter,  may  think  of 
me  and  of  the  work  I  have  done,  must 
never  forget  that  it  is  the  product,  not  of 
one  intellect  and  conscience,  but  of 
three  "  (p.  263). 

So  much  does  egotism  appear  to 
have  predominated  in  Mill's  nature, 
that  he  would  blow  the  trumpet  of 
himself  and  kith  and  kin  surrounded 
by  all  the  solemnity  of  death  itself. 
There  is  something  remarkable  con- 
nected with  this  firm  of  Mill,  Son  & 
Co.,  which  unfortunately  was  estab- 
lished by  the  Forfarshire  ladies  edu- 
cating the  founder  of  it  for  an  utter- 
ly different  purpose  or  calling  than 
the  one  he  followed.  The  principles 
of  the  house  seem  to  have  been  well 
maintained  by  its  subsequent  mem- 
bers and  ramifications ;  even  by 
Mrs.  Taylor's  daughter,  of  whom 
nothing  is  said  in  regard  to  the  feel- 
ings she  should  have  had  for  her 
father  when  deserted  by  her  mother ; 
feelings  that  are  always  entertained 
and  manifested  by  a  girl  under  the 
circumstances.  But  very  probably 
she  was  taken  away  when  a  mere 
child,  and  had  her  mind  poisoned, 
and  her  sympathies  perverted  and 
drawn  into  the  Mill  connection. 


The  house  thus  established  seems  to 
have  chosen  a  horse's  skeleton  paint- 
ed black  for  its  sign  or  coat-of-arms. 
We  will  now  consider  a  few  more 
of  the  exalted  gifts  of  this  remark- 
able woman,  and  the  wonderful  as- 
sistance she  was  to  Mill  in  his  liter- 
ary career,  as  described  in  the  Auto- 
biography. 

"  Up  to  the  time  when  I  first  saw  her, 
her  rich  and  powerful  nature  had  chiefly 
unfolded  itself  according  to  the  received 
type  of  feminine  genius.  To  her  outer 
circle  she  was  a  beauty  and  a  wit,  with 
an  air  of  natural  distinction,  felt  by  all 
who  approached  her :  to  the  inner,  a 
woman  of  deep  and  strong  feeling,  of 
penetrating  and  intuitive  intelligence, 
and  of  an  eminently  meditative  and 
poetic  nature"  (p.  185).  "Alike  in  the 
highest  regions  of  speculation  and  in 
the  smaller  practical  concerns  of  daily 
life,  her  mind  was  the  same  perfect  in- 
strument, piercing  to  the  very  heart  and 
marrow  of  the  matter  ;  always  seizing 
the  essential  idea  or  principle  "  (p.  186), 
with  qualities  that  would  have  fitted  her 
to  be  a  "consummate  artist,"  a  "great 
orator,"  and  "  eminent  among  the  rulers 
of  mankind  "  (p.  187).  "  In  both  these 
departments  [ultimate  aims  and  the  im- 
mediately useful  and  practicable]  I  have 
acquired  more  from  her  teaching  than 
from  all  other  sources  taken  together. 
.  .  .  .  It  is  not  the  least  of  my  in- 
tellectual obligations  to  her  that  I  have 
derived  from  her  a  wise  scepticism 
which  ....  has  put  me  on  my 
guard  against  holding  or  announcing 
these  conclusions  [on  all  the  subjects  on 
which  he  seems  to  have  written],  with  a 
degree  of  confidence  which  the  nature 
of  such  speculations  does  not  warrant. 
.  .  .  .  I  have  often  received  praise, 
which  in  my  own  right  I  only  partially 
deserved,  for  the  greater  practicality 
which  is  supposed  to  be  found  in  my 
writings,  compared  with  those  of  most 
thinkers  who  have  been  equally  addicted 
to  large  generalizations  "  (p.  189).  [The 
praise  really  was  due  to  his  wife,  or 
rather,  for  the  most  of  the  time,  to  an- 
other man's  wife.] 

He  had  the  assistance,  at  least  the 
friendship,  of  this  lady  for  six  years 
before  he  lost  his  father,  of  whom 
he  thus  writes  : — 

"  Though  acutely  sensible  of  my  own 


HIS  WIFE. 


inferiority  in  the  qualities  by  which  he 
acquired  his  personal  ascendancy  [alert- 
ness, decision  and  energy,  among  others], 
I  had  now  to  try  what  it  might  be  possi- 
ble for  me  to  accomplish  without  him. 

Deprived  of  my   father's 

aid,  I  was  also  exempted  from  the  re- 
straints and  reticences  by  which  that  aid 
had  been  purchased"  (p.  206). 

At  this  time  Mill  was  nearly  thirty 
years  old  ;  old  enough,  one  would 
think,  to  have  been  completely  eman- 
cipated from  every  one.  He  seems 
to  have  "  got  along "  pretty  well 
with  two  "  guides,  philosophers  and 
friends  " ;  but  after  his  father's  death 
he  appears  to  have  come  completely 
under  the  influence  of  the  other,  for 
fifteen  years,  when  he  married  her, 
and  had  her  all  to  himself  for  seven 
and  a  half  years. 

"  Not  only  during1  the  years  of  our 
married  life,  but  during  many  of  the 
years  of  confidential  friendship  which 
preceded,  all  my  published  writings  were 
as  much  her  work  as  mine  ;  her  share  in 
them  constantly  increasing  as  years  ad- 
vanced "  (p.  241).  .  .  .  "Over and 
above  the  general  influence  which  her 
mind  had  over  mine,  the  most  valuable 
ideas  and  features  in  these  joint  pro- 
ductions— those  which  have  been  most 
fruitful  of  important  results  [what  were 
these  important  results  ?],  and  have  con- 
tributed most  to  the  success  and  repu- 
tation of  the  works  themselves — origi- 
nated with  her,  were  emanations  from 
her  mind,  my  part  in  them  being  no 
greater  than  in  any  of  the  thoughts 
which  I  found  in  previous  writers,  and 
made  my  own  only  by  incorporating 
them  with  my  own  system  of  thought 
[which  must  have  been  a  small  ingredi- 
ent in  the  mixture,  such  as  a  book- 
wright  could  furnish].  During  the 
greater  part  of  my  literary  life  I  have 
performed  the  office  in  relation  to  her, 
which  from  a  rather  early  period  I  had 
considered  as  the  most  useful  part  that 
I  was  qualified  to  take  in  the  domain  of 
thought,  that  of  an  interpreter  of  origi- 
nal thinkers,  and  the  mediator  between 
them  and  the  public  [that  is,  a  dry  nurse 
to  others'  bantlings] ;  for  I  had  always 
a  humble  opinion  of  my  own  powers  as 
an  original  thinker,  except  in  abstract 
science  "  (p.  242).  "  My  own  strength 
lay  wholly  in  the  uncertain  and  slippery 


intermediate  region,  that  of  theory  or 
moral  and  political  science"  (p.  189) 
[which  should  have  kept  him  from  rush- 
ing into  almost  every  practical  subject 
connected  with  life].  "  It  will  easily  be 
believed  [there  is  no  doubt  about  it]  that 
when  I  came  into  close  intellectual  com- 
munion with  a  person  of  the  most  emi- 
nent faculties,  whose  genius,  as  it  grew 
and  unfolded  itself  in  thought,  continu- 
ally struck  out  truths  far  in  advance  of 
me,  but  in  which  I  could  not,  as  I  had 
done  in  those  others  [the  Coleridgians,  the 
German  thinkers,  and  Carlyle],  detect 
any  mixture  of  error  [was  he  a  fallible 
and  she  an  infallible  being  ?],  the  greatest 
part  of  my  mental  growth  consisted  in 
the  assimilation  of  those  truths  [what 
were  they  ?] ;  and  the  most  valuable  part 
of  my  intellectual  work  was  in  building 
the  bridges  and  clearing  the  paths  [me- 
chanical work]  which  connected  them 
with  my  general  system  of  thought "  (p. 
243)  [whether  his  own  or  borrowed 
from  others]. 

Of  his  Principles  of  Political  Econ- 
omy, the  most  important  chapter, 
on  the  "  Probable  future  of  the  la- 
bouring classes,"  was  entirely  due  to 
her:— 

"  It  was  chiefly  her  influence  that 
gave  to  the  book  that  general  tone  by 
which  it  is  distinguished  from  all  previ- 
ous expositions  of  Political  Economy 
that  had  any  pretension  to  being  scien- 
tific "  (p.  246).  "  This  example  illus- 
trates well  the  general  character  of  what 
she  contributed  to  my  writings.  What 
was  abstract  and  purely  scientific  was 
generally  mine  [sometimes  his  own  '  co- 
gitations,' and  sometimes  those  of 
others]  ;  the  proper  human  element  [or 
common  sense]  came  from,  her :  in  all 
that  concerned  the  application  of  phil- 
osophy to  the  exigencies  of  human  soci- 
ety and  progress,  I  was  her  pupil "  (p. 
247).  "  Her  practical  turn  of  mind,  and 
her  almost  unerring  estimate  of  practi- 
cal obstacles,  repressed  in  me  all  ten- 
dencies that  were  really  visionary  "  (p. 
248). 

He  says  of  his  System  of  Logic^ 
that  it  "  owed  little  to  her  except 
in  the  minuter  matters  of  composi- 
tion, in  which  respect  my  writings, 
both  great  and  small,  have  largely 
benefited  by  her  accurate  and  clear- 
sighted criticism  "  (p.  244).  But  if 


104 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


he  received  no  other  direct  assist- 
ance from  her  in  this  work,  he  had 
it  from  Mr.  Bain,  who  "  went  care- 
fully through  the  manuscript  before 
it  was  sent  to  press,  and  enriched  it 
with  a  great  number  of  additional 
examples  and  illustrations  from  sci- 
ence ;  many  of  which,  as  well  as 
some  detached  remarks  of  his  own 
in  confirmation  of  my  logical  views,  I 
inserted  nearly  in  his  own  words  "  (p. 
245) ;  and  a  good  deal  of  a  slightly 
different  nature  from  Comte.  In 
writing  the  Logic  he  said  that  he  was 
*  stopped  and  brought  to  a  halt  on 
the  threshold  of  Induction  "  (p.  207), 
but  the  history  of  Dr.  Whewell  on 
the  Inductive  Sciences,  gave  him  what 
he  "  had  been  waiting  for  "  (pp.  208 
and  223) ;  and  he  "  gained  much 
from  Comte"  (p.  210).*  Of  his 
Liberty  he  says  :— 

"None  of  my  writings  have  been 
either  so  carefully  composed  or  so  sedu- 
lously corrected  as  this"  (p.  205).  It 
"was  more  directly  and  literally  our 
joint  production  than  anything  else 
which  bears  my  name  "  (p.  251).  "  With 
regard  to  the  thoughts,  it  is  difficult  to 
identify  any  particular  part  or  element 
as  being  more  hers  than  all  the  rest. 
The  whole  mode  of  thinking  of  which 
the  book  was  the  expression  was  emphat- 
ically hers.  But  [oddly  as  it  may  appear] 
I  also  was  so  thoroughly  imbued  with 
it,  that  the  same  thoughts  naturally  oc- 
curred to  us  both.  That  I  was  thus 
penetrated  with  it,  however,  I  owe  in  a 

great  degree  to  her She 

benefited  me  as  much  by  keeping  me 
right  when  I  was  right,  as  by  leading 
me  to  new  truths,  and  ridding  me  of 
errors "  (p.  252).  "  Its  final  revision 
was  to  have  been  a  work  of  the  winter, 


*  Of  his  edition  of  his  father's  work  on 
the  Analysis  of  the  Phenomena  of  the  Hu- 
man Mind,  he  says  :— "  This  was  a  joint 
undertaking  :  the  psychological  notes 
being  furnished  in  about  equal  propor- 
tions by  Mr.  Bain  and  myself,  while  Mr. 
Grote  supplied  some  valuable  contribu- 
tions on  points  in  the  history  of  philoso- 
phy incidentally  raised  ;  and  Dr.  Andrew 
Findlater  supplied  the  deficiencies  in  the 
book  which  had  been  occasioned  by  the 
imperfect  philological  knowledge  of  the 
time  when  it  was  written  "  (p.  308). 


1858-9"  (p.  250).  [But  losing  her  be- 
fore that,  he  printed  it  as  it  stood.] 

Part  of  his  Thoughts  on  Parlia- 
mentary Reform  had  also  "  been  ap- 
proved and  revised  by  her"  (p. 
257).  The  remainder  of  it  "  I  had 
never  discussed  with  my  almost  in- 
fallible counsellor  [!J,  and  I  had  no 
evidence  that  she  would  have  con- 
curred in  it"  (p.  257).  Of  his  Dis- 
sertations and  Discussions,  he  says : — 

"  The  selection  had  been  made  dur- 
ing my  wife's  lifetime,  but  the  revision, 
in  concert  with  her,  with  a  view  to  pub- 
lication, had  been  barely  commenced; 
and  when  1  had  no  longer  the  guidance 
of  her  judgment,  I  despaired  of  pursuing 
it  further  [did  he  generally  swim  with 
bladders  round  his  neck  ?]  and  repub- 
lished  the  papers  as  they  were,  with  the 
exception  of  striking  out  such  passages 
as  were  no  longer  in  accordance  with 
my  opinions  "  (p.  261). 

Of  his  Subjection  of  Women,  he 
says  : — "  As  ultimately  published, 
all  that  is  most  strik- 
ing and  profound  belongs  to  my 
wife  "  (p.  266). 

"  The  steps  in  my  mental  growth  for 
which  I  was  indebted  to  her  were  far 
from  being  those  which  a  person  wholly 
uninformed  on  the  subject  would  prob- 
ably suspect.  It  may  be  supposed,  for 
instance,  that  my  strong  convictions  on 
the  complete  equality  in  all  legal,  politi- 
cal, social  and  domestic  relations,  which 
ought  to  exist  between  men  and  women 
[voting,  holding  office,  fighting,  sup- 
porting themselves,  with  no  claims  on 
their  husbands,  or  they  on  them,  etc.  ?] 
may  have  been  adopted  or  learned 
from  her.  This  was  so  far  from  being  the 
fact,  that  these  convictions  were  among 
the  earliest  results  of  the  application  of 
my  mind  [doubtless  with  the  assistance 
of  his  father  or  some  other  person]  to 
political  subjects,  and  the  strength  with 
which  I  held  them  was,  I  believe,  more 
than  anything  else,  the  originating  cause 
of  the  interest  she  felt  in  me.  What  is 
true  is,  that  until  I  knew  her,  the  opin- 
ion was  in  my  mind  little  more  than  an 

abstract  principle  [as  usual] 

But  that  perception  of  the  vast  practi- 
cal bearings  of  women's  disabilities  [?] 
which  found  expression  in  the  book  on 
the  Subjection  of  Women  was  acquired 


MILL  AND  SON. 


105 


mainly  through  her  teaching 

I  am  indeed  painfully  conscious  of  how 
much  of  her  best  thoughts  on  the  sub- 
ject I  have  failed  to  reproduce,  and  how 
greatly  that  little  treatise  falls  short  of 
what  [it]  would  have  been  if  she  had  put 
on  paper  her  entire  mind  on  this  ques- 
tion, or  had  lived  to  revise  and  improve, 
as  she  certainly  would  have  done,  my 
imperfect  statement  of  the  case"  [p. 
244]. 

His  Utilitarianism,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  some  additional  matter, 
was  "  written  during  the  last  years 
of  his  married  "life  "  (p.  266),  and 
doubtless  was  as  much  his  wife's  as 
the  others. 

It  would  have  been  interesting  if 
Mill  had  told  us  fully  where  a  "  be- 
ing of  these  qualities  "  (p.  188)  could 
have  got  all  her  information,  since 
"  to  be  admitted  into  any  degree 
of  mental  intercourse "  with  her 
"  could  not  but  have  a  most  beneficial 
influence  on  his  development "  (p. 
1 88). 

"  To  her  who  had  at  first  reached  her 
opinions  by  the  moral  intuition  of  a 
character  of  strong  feeling  [was  that  in- 
spiration ?]  there  was  doubtless  help  as 
well  as  encouragement  to  be  derived 
from  one  who  had  arrived  at  many  of 
the  same  results  by  study  and  reason- 
ing :  and  in  the  rapidity  of  her  intellect- 
ual growth,  her  mental  activity,  which 
converted  everything  into  knowledge, 
doubtless  drew  from  me  [there  she  must 
have  bamboozled  him],  as  it  did  from 
other  sources,  many  of  its  materials  " 
(p.  i 88). 

That  was  a  subject  upon  which 
Mill  appears  to  have  remained  igno- 
rant to  the  last,  and  it  may  become 
one  of  discussion  to  such  as  feel  in- 
terested in  it. 

V. 

MILL    AND    SON. 

It  is  remarkable  that  Mill,  de- 
pending so  much  upon  others,  di- 
rectly and  indirectly,  for  his  opin- 
ions, and  the  details,  as  well  as  some 
of  the  execution,  of  so  many  of  the 
writings  published  in  his  name, 


should  have  looked  upon  himself  as 
an  Apostle  :  for  he  says  : — 

"A  person  of  high  intellect  should 
never  go  into  unintellectual  society  un- 
less he  can  enter  it  as  an  Apostle  ;  yet 
he  is  the  only  person  with  high  objects 
who  can  safely  enter  it  at  all  "  (p.  228), 

The  only  real  apostleship  which 
characterized  him  was  that  of  rank 
atheism,  acquired  at  second  hand, 
and  preached  by  his  executors ; 
which  "  society"  of  any  kind  can 
well  dispense  with.  The  writer  in 
the  Edinburgh  Review,  alluded  to, 
says  : — 

"What  education  would  he  have 
given  them  ?  What  has  he  ever  done  to 
promote  their  education  in  any  one  re- 
spect which  would  make  the  peasant 
and  the  artizan  a  better  and  a  happier 
man  ?  "  "  In  truth,  if  the  whole  work 
of  his  life  be  examined,  it  will  be  found 
to  be  eminently  destructive,  but  not  to 
contain  one  practical  constructive  idea." 

And    the    writer     in     Blackwooffs 

Magazine  says  : — 

"  There  was  not  an  opinion  or  an  in- 
stitution cherished  by  his  countrymen 
which  he  ...  .  did  not  attack, 
with  a  view  to  its  absolute  extinction." 
"  Marriage  was  the  institution  which  he 
especially  assailed,"  "and  called  upon 
the  whole  female  sex  to  revolt  against 
it,  as  unworthy  and  to  the  lowest  de- 
gree degrading." 

As  illustrative  of  the  mischief- 
making  intentions  or  tendencies  of 
his  nature  and  teaching,  like  those 
of  a  child  starting  machinery  which 
it  could  not  control,  the  following 
may  be  given,  when  he  says  that  he 

"  Earnestly  hoped  that  Owenite,  St. 
Simonian,  and  all  other  anti-property 
doctrines  might  spread  widely  among 
the  poorer  classes ;  not  that  I  thought 
those  doctrines  true,  or  desired  that  they 
should  be  acted  on,  but  in  order  that  the 
higher  classes  might  be  made  to  see  that 
they  had  more  to  fear  from  the  poor 
when  uneducated  than  when  educated  " 
(p.  172). 

His  father's  words  would  apply, 
in  an  eminent  degree,  to  himself,  not 


io6 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


only  in  the  matter  of  religion,  but 
in  many  other  things,  when  he 
wrote : — 

"  He  disliked  people  quite  as  much 
for  any  other  deficiency,  provided  he 
thought  it  equally  likely  to  make  them 
act  ill.  He  disliked,  for  instance,  a 
fanatic  in  any  bad  cause,  as  much  or 
more  than  one  who  adopted  the  same 
cause  from  self-interest,  because  he 
thought  him  even  more  likely  to  be 
practically  mischievous  "  (p.  50). 

Mill  was  to  a  very  great  extent, 
and  in  a  very  marked  degree,  a 
"  made  or  manufactured  man,  hav- 
ing had  a  certain  impress  of  opin- 
ions stamped  on  him  which  he 
could  only  reproduce  "  (p.  155), 
notwithstanding  what  he  says  about 
his  ideas  of  Wordsworth  and  Byron, 
whether  the  impress  was  made  on 
him  by  his  father,  Mrs.  Taylor,  or 
whoever  they  were  that  "attached 
him  to  their  cars." 

"  I  felt  that  what  my  father  had  said 
respecting  my  peculiar  advantages  was 
exactly  the  truth  and  common  sense  of 
the  matter,  and  it  fixed  my  opinion  and 
feeling  from  that  time  forward  "  (p.  35), 
[viz  :]  "  that  it  was  no  matter  of  praise 
to  me  if  I  knew  more  than  those  who 
had  not  had  a  similar  advantage,  but 
the  deepest  disgrace  to  me  if  I  did  not  " 
(P-  34). 

His  case  was  not  that  of  a  boy 
brought  up  and  educated  in  the 
ordinary  way,  and  depending  on  no 
one  but  himself,  or  one  brought  up 
in  circumstances  of  destitution,  and 
deprived  of  every  advantage  of  even 
the  most  elementary  instruction, 
and  yet  who  educated  himself 
and  rose  to  distinction;  but  one 
who  was  educated  and  trained 
as  a  stalled  ox  is  fed.  He  was  a 
forced,  hot-house  plant,  that  had 
everything  done  for  it,  and  "  cram- 
med with  mere  facts,  and  with  the 
opinions  or  phrases  of  other  people  " 
(p.  31),  which  his  training  enabled 
him  to  manipulate  and  transpose 
this  way  and  that  way,  as  a  person 
acquires  a  trade,  business  or 
art,  on  being  put  to  it ;  some  show- 


ing greater  merits  in  proportion  to 
their  application,  and  natural  talents 
running  in  that  way.  This  is  what 
Mill  was  substantially,  leaving  it  as 
an  open  question  his  estimate  of 
himself  when  he  said  : — "  My  own 
strength  lay  wholly  in  the  uncertain 
and  slippery  intermediate  region, 
that  of  theory  or  moral  and  political 
science  "  (p.  189). 

A  person  appearing  before  the 
world  advocating  an  idea  or  a  fact 
that  may  have  incidentally  presented 
itself  to  him,  and  taking  up  others 
that  the  first  may  have  as  incidental- 
ly led  to,  is  a  kind  of  person  totally 
different  from  one  like  Mill,  whose 
"  cramming  "  urged  him  to  become 
a  "  reformer  of  the  world  "  at  the 
time  he  was  fifteen,  when  he  had  no 
practical  knowledge  of  the  world 
(and  never  really  acquired  it),  or  of 
what  there  was  in  it  that  required 
reformation.  The  latter  is  almost 
sure  to  become,  in  some  things  at 
least,  little  better  than  a  demagogue, 
or  pest  generally,  especially  when 
his  capacity  or  training  qualifies 
him,  for  the  most  part,  to  but  level 
and  fire  off  the  guns  of  others'  load- 
ing. 

Mill's  premature  studies  really 
spoiled  him,  for  they  were  not 
counteracted,  modified,  or  controlled 
by  subsequent  practical  knowledge. 
They  led  him,  at  the  early  age  men- 
tioned, to  say  that 

"  The  most  transcendent  glory  I  was 
capable  of  conceiving  was  that  of  fig- 
uring, successful  or  unsuccessful,  as  a 
Girondist  in  an  English  convention  "  (p. 
63).  An  idea  doubtless  imbibed  from 
his  father.  And  when  he  was  a  young 
man  he  said : — "  The  French  philoso- 
phes  of  the  eighteenth  century  were  the 
example  we  sought  to  imitate,  and  we 
hoped  to  accomplish  no  less  results  [!]. 
No  one  of  the  set  went  to  so  great  ex- 
cesses in  this  boyish  ambition  as  I  did 
(p.  108).  .  .  .  Ambition  and  desire 
of  distinction  I  had  in  abundance ;  and 
zeal  for  what  I  thought  the  good  of 
mankind  was  my  strongest  sentiment, 
mixing  with  and  colouring  all  others. 
But  my  zeal  was  as  yet  little  else,  at  that 


MILL  AND  SON. 


107 


period  of  my  life  [and  at  no  other 
period],  than  zeal  for  speculative  opin- 
ions "  (p.  109). 

As  we  have  seen,  his  capacity,  as 
he  admitted,  never  went  further,  at 
any  time,  than  to  entertain  specula- 
tive opinions  and  theories.  It  led 
him,  when  in  his  twenty-first  year, 
to  give  expression  to  crude  ideas 
about  his  "  love  of  mankind  and  of 
excellence  for  its  own  sake "  (p. 
135),  when  he  did  not  love  anyone 
sufficiently  to  justify  him  in  confid- 
ing in  him  the  particulars  of  a  ner- 
vous disorder  with  which  he  was  af- 
flicted. And  still  he  clung  to  his 
ideal : — 

"  For  though  my  dejection,  honestly 
looked  at,  could  not  be  called  other  than 
egotistical,  produced  by  the  ruin,  as  I 
thought,  of  my  fabric  of  happiness,  yet 
the  destiny  of  mankind  in  general  [in 
this  world  only]  was  ever  in  my  thoughts, 
and  could  not  be  separated  from  my 
own.  I  felt  that  the  flaw  in  my  life 
must  be  a  flaw  in  life  itself"  [!]  (p.  145). 

Mill  never  had  a  real  boyhood, 
and  apparently  for  that  reason  re- 
tained, in  a  great  measure,  the  char- 
acter of  a  "  raw  lad  "  to  the  last,  as 
his  Autobiography  to  a  great  extent 
shows,  in  many  ways,  and  especially 
in  the  high-flown  language  which 
he  uses  in  panegyrizing  any  and 
every  one  connected  or  associated 
with  himself.  His  opinions,  and 
the  language  in  which  they  are  ex- 
pressed, are  generally  so  extreme 
that  they  merit  very  little  notice  or 
credit.  As  illustrative  of  his  raw- 
lad-like  peculiarities,  we  may  collect 
from  the  Autobiography  the  follow- 
ing expressions,  in  addition  to  those 
set  down  at  page  81  : — 

Cardinal  points. 

Fundamental   constitution   of  modes 

of  thought. 

Fundamental  improvement. 
Great  purposes. 
High  intellect. 
High  objects. 
Higher  principles. 
Intellectual  creed. 
Intellectual  cultivation. 
Intellectual  growth. 


Mental  changes. 
Mental  development. 
Mental  history. 
Mental  progress. 
Mental  superiority. 
Mental  work. 
Radical  amendment. 
Self-improvement. 
Thinking  faculties. 
Ultimate  aims. 

There  is  much  in  the  Autobiogra- 
phy in  relation  to  himself,  his  wife 
and  his  father,  that  need  not  have 
been  made  public,  as  Mill  has  done 
it.  In  regard  to  his  father,  he  com- 
mitted a  worse  than  Ham-like  ac- 
tion, for  Ham  was  cursed  for  not 
immediately  covering  his  father's 
nakedness,  while  Mill  exposed  his 
parent's,  such  as  it  was,  to  the  gaze 
of  all  mankind.  Indeed,  Mill 
seems  to  have  been  very  deficient, 
not  only  in  common  sense,  as  I  have 
already  said,  but  in  delicacy  or  man- 
liness of  feeling,  having  little  or  no 
regard  for  the  ordinary  proprieties, 
or  the  sensibilities  of  others,  were 
it  only  those  of  his  followers,  who 
cannot  look  on  his  Autobiography 
but  with  a  sense  of  mortification, 
however  interesting  it  may  be  to 
others,  as  the  history  of  what  might 
be  called  an  irregularity  in  nature  ; 
but  not  possessing  a  single  quality 
to  justify  its  being  put  into  the 
hands  of  youth,  notwithstanding  all 
its  professions  and  fine  phrases  to 
that  end.  There  is  another  point 
that  Mill  should  have  considered  in 
his  lifetime,  that  it  is  the  custom, 
indeed  the  law,  that  no  government 
officer  is  allowed  to  express,  far  less 
publish,  opinions  for  or  against  the 
law  or  government  of  the  country, 
past  or  present;  and  although  he 
was  not  directly  employed  by  the 
Crown,  he  stood  somewhat  in  the 
same  position,  and  should  have  gov- 
erned himself  accordingly.  But  it 
appears  to  have  been  no  part  of  Mill's 
nature  to  entertain  points  of  deli- 
cacy or  etiquette  of  that  kind. 

It  may  interest  the  reader  to  know 
how  Mill  the  elder,  whose  coat-of- 


1 08 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


arms  seems  to  have  been  "  a  horse's 
skeleton  painted  black,"  and  whose 
"  portion  "  was  "  this  world,"  went 
out  of  it. 

"  During  the  whole  of  1835  his  health 
had  been  declining :  his  symptoms  be- 
came unequivocally  those  of  pulmonary 
consumption,  and  after  lingering  to  the 
last  stage  of  debility,  he  died  on  the 
23d  of  June,  1836.  Until  the  last  few 
days  of  his  life,  there  was  no  apparent 
abatement  of  intellectual  vigour  ;  his  in- 
terest in  all  things  and  persons  that  had 
interested  him  through  life  was  undi- 
minished  ;  nor  did  the  approach  of  death 
cause  the  smallest  wavering  (as  in  so 
strong  and  firm  a  mind  it  was  impossi- 
ble that  it  should)  in  his  convictions  on 
the  subject  of  religion  [as  to  its  being 
'  a  great  moral  evil ' ] .  His  principal  sat- 
isfaction, after  he  knew  that  his  end  was 
near,  seemed  to  be  the  thought  of  what 
he  had  done  to  make  the  world  better 
than  he  found  it  [did  he  do  that  ?] ;  and 
his  chief  regret  in  not  living  longer, 
that  he  had  not  time  to  do  more  "  (p. 
203). 

The  following  are  some  of  his 
opinions,  in  addition  to  those  al- 
ready given  : — 

"  He  thought  human  life  a  poor  thing 
at  best  [as  it  is,  if  its  end  is  no  better 
than  a  dog's],  after  the  freshness  of 
youth  and  of  unsatisfied  [satisfied  ?] 
curiosity  had  gone  by.  This  was  a 
topic  on  which  he  [naturally  enough] 
did  not  often  speak,  especially,  it  may  be 
supposed,  in  the  presence  of  young 
persons  ;  but  when  he  did,  it  was  with 
an  air  of  settled  and  profound  convic- 
tion. He  would  sometimes  say  that  if 
life  were  made  what  it  might  be,  by 
good  government  and  good  education 
[such  as  he  gave  to  his  son,  which  ex- 
cluded everything  connected  with  the 
imagination  and  the  heart],  it  would  be 
worth  having ;  but  he  never  spoke  with 
anything  like  enthusiasm  even  of  that 
possibility  "  (p.  48). 

"  My  father  never  was  a  great  ad- 
mirer of  Shakspeare,  the  English  idol- 
atry of  whom  he  used  to  attack  with 
some  severity"  (p.  16). 

"  For  a  long  time  I  saw  nothing  in  these 
[early  articles  of  Carlyle]  (as  my  fathe 
saw  nothing  in  them  to  the  last)  but  in 
sane  rhapsody"  (p.  161).  "I  did  not 
however,  deem  myself  a  competen 
judge  of  Carlyle.  1  felt  that  he  was  a 


oet,  and  that  I  was  not ;  that  he  was 
a  man  of  intuition,  which  I  was  not 
and  there  he  spoke  the  truth,  for  he  ac- 
[uired  his  knowledge  as  a  sponge  takes 
n  water]  ;  and  that  as  such  he  not 
nly  saw  many  things  long  before  me, 
vhich  I  could  only,  when  they  were 
pointed  out  to  me,  hobble  after  [like  an 
mpote'nt  man]  and  prove,  but  that  it 
was  highly  probable  he  could  see  many 
hings  which  were  not  visible  to  me 
even  after  they  were  pointed  out.  [He 
must  have  been  dull  in  the  apprehen- 
sion.] I  knew  that  I  could  not  see  round 
lim,  and  could  never  be  certain  that  I 
saw  over  him  ;  and  I  never  presumed 
:o  judge  him  with  any  definiteness  until 
le  was  interpreted  to  me  by  [his  '  almost 
nfallible  counsellor']  one  greatly  the 
superior  of  us  both — who  was  more  a 
Doet  than  he,  and  more  a  thinker  than 
[—whose  own  mind  and  nature  included 
tiis,  and  infinitely  more  "  (p.  176).  [The 
nymph  appearing  to  Numa  at  the  foun- 
tain was  nothing  compared  with  her.] 

In  considering  what  Mill  further 
says  of  his  father,  we  must  make 
great  allowance  for  the  peculiarity 
of  his  nature,  and  his  general  want 
of  judgment,  especially  when  dis- 
played in  bragging,  however  indi- 
rectly, about  himself,  or  directly  in 
regard  to  any  one  connected  with 
himself,  or  indeed,  any  person  what- 
ever. 

"  His  place  is  an  eminent  one  in  the  lit- 
erary and  even  in  the  political  history  of 
his  country;  and  it  is  far  from  honourable 
to  the  generation  which  has  benefited 
by  his  work  [?]  that  he  is  so  seldom 
mentioned,  and,  compared  with  men 
far  his  inferiors,  so  little  remembered  " 
(p.  203).  "  He  did  not  revolutionize,  or 
rather  create,  one  of  the  great  depart- 
ments of  thought.  But  ...  he 
will  be  known  to  posterity  as  one  of 
the  greatest  names  in  that  most  import- 
ant branch  of  speculation  on  which  all 
the  moral  [?]  and  political  sciences  ulti- 
mately rest As  Brutus  was 

called  the  last  of  the  Romans,  so  was 
he  the  last  of  the  eighteenth  century  " 
(p.  204).  "  By  his  writings  and  his  per- 
sonal influence  he  was  a  great  centre 
of  light  to  his  generation  "  (p.  205). 

In  a  letter  which  James  Mill  ad- 
dressed to  Jeremy  Bentham,  in  the 
year  1814,  he  says:— 


MILL  AND  SON. 


109 


"  In  reflecting  upon  the  duty  which 
we  owe  to  our  principles — to  that  sys- 
tem of  important  truths  of  which  you 
have  the  immortal  honour  to  be  the 
author,  but  of  which  I  am  a  most  faith- 
ful and  fervent  disciple  [or  one  of  his 
brood],  and  hitherto,  I  have  fancied, 
my  master's  favourite  disciple  [as  if  he 
were  addressing  the  prophet  Jeremiah] 
—I  have  considered  that  there  was  no- 
body at  all  so  likely  to  be  your  real  suc- 
cessor as  myself.  Of  talents  it  would 
be  easy  to  find  many  superior.  But,  in 
the  first  place,  I  hardly  know  of  any- 
body who  has  so  completely  taken  up 
the  principles,  and  is  so  thoroughly  of 
the  same  way  of  thinking  with  yourself. 
In  the  next  place,  there  are  very  few 
who  have  so  much  of  the  necessary 
previous  discipline ;  my  antecedent 
years  having  been  wholly  occupied  in 
acquiring  it.  And,  in  the  last  place,  I 
am  pretty  sure  you  cannot  think  of  any 
other  person  whose  whole  life  will  be 
devoted  to  the  propagation  of  the  sys- 
tem "  (Bourne).  [He  seems  to  have 
prayed  most  earnestly  for  Jeremy  to 
throw  his  mantle  over  him.] 

Of  this  "grand  system  of  truths," 
which  was  to  have  established  the 
millennium  on  earth,  the  writer  in 
the  Edinburgh  Review,  alluded  to, 
says : — 

"  Indeed,  so  far  was  Benthamism 
from  founding  a  school,  that  it  perished 
with  its  first  disciples  ;  no  such  being 
as  a  Benthamite  of  the  second  genera- 
tion is  known  to  exist,  and  even  the 
survivors  of  the  original  sect  no  longer 
belong  to  it.  Yet  these  were  the  men 
who  had  started  in  life  with  a  theory 
[an  utterly  godless  one]  which  was  to 
rally  to  it  all  educated  minds,  and  re- 
generate the  world.  Fifty  years  have 
passed,  and  where  is  their  theory  now  ? 
It  did  not  last  them  half  their  own 
lives.  John  Mill  himself  had  slipped 
out  of  the  pale.  The  elder  Mill  re- 
mained steadfast  in  unbelief,  denounc- 
ing with  savage  vehemence  the  desert- 
ers from  his  standard  "  [and  died  as  he 
had  lived]. 

The  remaining  remarks  which  I 
shall  give  from  Mill  in  regard  to  his 
father  must  be  received  not  merely 
with  "  a  grain  of  salt,"  but  with  a 
large  allowance,  or  "  a  heavy  dis- 
count off  the  face  of  them,"  for  ob- 


vious reasons,  till  at  least  they  can 
be  confirmed  by  disinterested  peo- 
ple more  capable  than  himself,  and 
having  the  opportunity  of  putting 
a  correct  estimate  on  his  parent's 
merits,  and  particularly  in  connec- 
tion with  India. 

"  It  is  only  one  of  his  minor  merits 
that  he  was  the  originator  of  all  sound 
statesmanship  in  regard  to  the  subject 
of  his  largest  work,  India  "  (p.  205).  "  In 
his  History  he  had  set  forth,  for  the  first 
time,  many  of  the  true  principles  of 
Indian  administration ;  and  his  des- 
patches, following  his  History  [which 
was  published  in  the  beginning  of  1818], 
did  more  than  had  ever  been  done  be- 
fore to  promote  the  improvement  of  In- 
dia, and  teach  Indian  officials  to  under- 
stand their  business.  [This,  compara- 
tively speaking,  humble  subordinate 
would  seem  to  have  '  run '  the  com- 
pany.] If  a  selection  of  them  were 
published,  they  would,  I  am  convinced 
[whatever  other  people  might  think], 
place  his  character  as  a  practical  states- 
man [the  Governor,  directors,  etc.,  hav- 
ing had  apparently  nothing  to  do  with 
the  despatches]  fully  on  a  level  [what- 
ever that  was]  with  his  eminence  as  a 
speculative  writer  "  (p.  26). 

"  He  wrote  on  no  subject  which  he 
did  not  enrich  with  valuable  thought 

[religion,  for  example] 

In  the  power  of  influencing  by  mere 
force  of  mind  and  character,  the  con- 
victions and  purposes  of  others  [he 
could  not  keep  Bentham's  goats  to- 
gether], and  in  the  strenuous  exertion 
of  that  power  to  promote  freedom  and 
progress,  he  left,  as  [far  as]  my  knowl- 
edge extends  [a  safe  reservation],  no 
equal  among  men,  and  but  one  among 
women "  (p.  205),  [who  must  be  in- 
censed or  fumigated  on  all  occasions]. 

Among  the  odd  doctrines  held 
by  him,  the  writer  in  the  Edinburgh 
Review  says  that  he  maintained 
that  "  all  men  are  born  with  equal 
faculties,  and  that  their  mental 
power  or  weakness  [what  about  the 
physical  ?]  is  the  mere  result  of  ed- 
ucation and  circumstances."  And 
his  son  got  very  little  in  advance  of 
him  in  that  respect,  when  he  gave 
it  as  his  opinion  that  his  receiving 
the  intellectual  cramming  given 


110 


JOHN  STUART  MILL. 


him  "could  assuredly  be  done  by 
any  boy  or  girl  of  average  capacity 
and  healthy  physical  constitution  " 
(p  30).  Mill  says  of  his  father: — 

"  Nor  did  he  think  it  possible  to  set 
any  positive  bounds  to  the  moral  capa- 
bilities which  might  unfold  themselves 
in  mankind  under  an  enlightened  direc- 
tion of  social  and  educational  influ- 
ences "  (p.  179),  [provided  that  the 
worship  of  God,  or  even  the  belief  in 
his  existence,  or  religion  in  any  shape, 
be  banished  from  the  world.] 

But  that  is  in  direct  contradic- 
tion to  what  he  said,  as  we  have 
just  seen  : — "  He  would  sometimes 
say  that  if  life  were  made  what  it 
might  be,  by  good  government  [the 
English  was  certainly  a  good  gov- 
ernment] and  good  education,  it 
would  be  worth  having;  but  he 
never  spoke  with  anything  like  enthu- 
siasm even  of  that  possibility  "  (p. 
48).  He  must  have  been  difficult 
to  please  with  both  government  and 
education.  John  Stuart  Mill  gives 
it. as  his  own  opinion  that  "  educa- 
tion, habit  and  the  cultivation  of 
the  sentiments,  will  make  a  com- 
mon man  [why  a  common  man  ?]  dig 
or  weave  for  his  country  as  readily 
as  fight  for  his  country  "  (p.  232). 
His  "  country "  has  always  paid, 
and  always  expects  to  pay,  for  these, 
as  well  as  all  other  services. 

John  Stuart  Mill  seems  to  have 
*'  boxed  the  compass "  on  almost 
all  the  subjects  he  touched :  but  he 
never  did  it  on  religion,  for  he  never 
had  one  to  change.  He  appears  to 
have  kept  or  lost  the  count  of  his 
changes;  at  least,  he  speaks  of"  the 
third  period  of  his  mental  progress," 
but  does  not  mention  the  changes 
during  each  of  these  periods.  The 
following  is  a  list  of  some  of  them, 
arranged  alphabetically : — 

Actual  revolution. 
Further  mental  changes. 
Future  development. 
Last  change. 
New  era  in  my  life. 
New  fabric  of  thought. 
New  way  of  thinking. 


Third  period  of  my  mental   progress. 
Transformation  in  my  opinions. 
Transition  in  my  mode  of  thought. 

He  was  capable  of  working  a 
good  deal  of  mischief  during  his 
lifetime,  with  people  lacking  the  ca- 
pacity or  knowledge  to  reject  his 
nostrums,  and  partly  because  of  the 
half-mythical  kind  of  mystery  sur- 
rounding him,  and  the  uncertainty 
regarding  his  religious  opinions.  In 
the  Autobiography  such  people  will 
not  find  a  sound  moral  or  manly 
sentiment  of  any  importance ;  but 
much  to  create  a  disgust  for  the 
father,  and  a  pity  for  the  son  for 
being  subjected  to  the  training  he 
received ;  as  well  as  anything  but  a 
respect  for  the  want  of  judgment  and 
natural  feeling  displayed  throughout 
it.  It  is  unnecessary  to  speak  of  his 
radicalism,  democracy,  women's- 
rights-ism,  socialism,  St.  Simonism, 
Owenism,  or  demagogism  generally. 
But  all,  or  almost  all,  of  his  peculi- 
arities could  have  been  forgiven 
him,  had  he  not,  after  seeing  nearly 
the  three-score  and  ten,  and  receiv- 
ing many  public  honours,  stated  in 
his  posthumous  writings  that  he 
never  had  any  religion,  or  apparent- 
ly a  feeling  of  it,  or  belief  in  the 
existence  of  God,  and  glorying  in 
the  same ;  thus  putting  himself,  in 
that  respect,  on  a  level  with  the 
brutes  that  perish. 

His  writings  must  stand  on  their 
merits  and  the  circumstances  under 
which  they  were  produced ;  and 
so  must  the  personal  and  conven- 
tional virtues  and  peculiarities  by 
which  he  may  have  been  character- 
ized. His  Autobiography  shows  a 
wonderful  egotism  as  regards  him- 
self and  all  connected  with  him — all 
apparently  practical  atheists ;  an 
egotism  which  nothing  would  seem 
to  have  been  capable  of  affecting, 
except  perhaps  to  anger  him  for  the 
moment ;  for  in  other  respects  we 
could  imagine  it  to  have -been  in- 
sensible to  a  hint  and  indifferent  to 
a  rebuke.  When  writing  it,  he  may 
have  imagined,  in  his  ignorance  of 


SIM  SON'S  H1STOR  Y  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 


Ill 


human  nature,  that  he  was  present- 
ing himself  as  an  object  of  admira- 
tion to  the  world,  notwithstanding 
that  he  said, /'I  do  not  for  a  mo- 
ment imagine  that  any  part  of  what 
I  have  to  relate  can  be  interesting 
to  the  public  as  a  narrative,  or  as 
being  connected  with  myself"  (p.i) ; 
his  only  reasons  being  that  the  cause 
of  education,  and  the  improvement 
of  the  mind,  might  be  advanced  by 


his  own  history,  and  especially  that 
acknowledgement  should  be  made 
of  the  debt  he  owed  to  his  wife, 
who  predeceased  him,  for  his  intellec- 
tual and  moral  development !  It 
can  safely  be  said  that  Pan  never 
would  have  had  a  temple,  priests 
and  worshippers,  had  be  hobnobbed 
with  every  one,  and  been  brought 
home  every  night  on  a  barrow  or 
stretcher. 


SIMSON'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  GIPSIES* 


«  II7E  cannot  but  think  that  the  last 
VV  few  years  have  wrought  sad 
havoc  with  these  queer  wanderers  ;  for 
a  long  time  they  stoutly  withstood  the 
inroads  of  civilization,  but  now,  like 
many  other  romantic  nuisances,  they  are 
being  improved  off  the  face  of  the  earth. 
We  can  hardly  sympa- 
thise with  the  sorrow  Mr.  Simson 
would  doubtless  have  felt,  had  he  been 
alive,  at  their  extinction."  t 


*  New  York  :  James  Miller. 

f  In  a  comparatively  late  number  of 
Chambers1  Journal is  the  following: — "As 
the  wild-cat,  the  otter  and  the  wolf  gene- 
rally disappear  before  the  advance  of 
civilization,  the  wild  races  of  mankind 
are,  in  like  manner  and  degree,  gradually 
coming  to  an  end,  and  from  the  same 
causes  [!].  The  wastelands  get  enclosed, 
the  woods  are  cut  down,  the  police  be- 
comes yearly  more  efficient,  and  the 
Pariahs  vanish  with  their  means  of  sub- 
sistence. [Cannot  they  find  '  means  of  sub- 
sistence '  away  from  the  waste  lands  and 
the  woods?]  In  England  there  are  at 
most  1,500  Gipsies.  Before  the  end  of  the 
present  century  they  will  probably  be  ex- 
tinct over  Western  Europe."  [!] 

The  Atheneeum,  on  the  30*  December, 
1870,  says: — "The  rest  of  this  people, 
who  are  scattered  over  Europe,  and  who 
are  disappearing  gradually  with  the  in- 
crease of  the  civilization  that  surrounds 
them."  And  the  Saturday  Review,  on  the 
2qth  November,  1873,  writes: — "In  this  j 
country  the  gradual  enclosure  of  com- 
mons and  waste  lands,  with  other  dis- 
couragements to  vagabond  life,  can  hard- 
ly fail  ere  long  to  extinguish  the  race." 


I  confess  I  felt  surprised  on  read- 
ing the  above  in  Land  and  Water  of 
the  1 9th  July,  in  the  face  of  the  author 
showing  that  the  Gipsies  had  only 
changed  their  style  of  life,  from  an 
out-door  to  a  settled  condition,  and 
were  following  a  variety  of  callings 
common  to  the  ordinary  natives  of 
the  country.  In  my  addition  to  the 
work  I  showed,  fully  and  elaborate- 
ly, how  the  tribe  exist,  and  perpetu- 
ate their  existence,  in  a  mixed,  set- 
tled, and  more  or  less  civilized  state ; 
and  that  "  so  prolific  has  the  race 
been  that  there  cannot  be  less  than 
250,000  Gipsies  of  all  castes,  colours, 
characters,  occupations,  degrees  of 
education,  culture,  and  position  in 
life,  in  the  British  Isles  alone,  and 
possibly  double  that  number."  The 
subject  of  the  Gipsies  stands  thus 
on  an  entirely  different  footing  from 
what  has  hitherto  been  believed  of 
it.  The  idea  is  novel,  but  why 
should  anything,  merely  because  it 
is  novel,  be  tacitly  or  actually  pro- 
scribed; to  say  nothing  of  those 
amenities  and  courtesies  that  are 
supposed  to  be  observed  in  the  re- 
public of  letters,  and  particularly 
between  those  of  the  two  conti- 
nents ?  If  such  a  course  had  been 
followed  in  other  matters,  and  the 
impression  of  society,  however  ill- 
founded,  had  been  the  o^y  test  of 


112 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


truth,  where  would  humanity  have  | 
been  to-day?  Knowledge  would  j 
never  have  progressed,  and  we 
would  have  been  in  a  condi- 
tion little  better  than  that  of 
semi-barbarism.  What  reason  could 
any  one  advance  in  favour  of  the 
Gipsies  "  ceasing  to  be  Gipsies  "  by 
disappearing  from  the  roads,  woods, 
and  fields?  And  how  could  he 
maintain  that  position  as  a  matter 
of  fact  ?  Look  at  a  tent  of  such 
of  the  Gipsies  as  still  go  about, 
when  all  the  family  are  together, 
and  see  how  prolific  they  are,  and 
consider  that  it  has  been  so  from  at 
least  the  time  of  Henry  VIII.  How 
could  any  one  say  that  the  progeny 
and  descendants  of  this  people  had 
no  more  affinity  with  the  tribe,  or 
even  knowledge  of  it,  than  the  com- 
pany that  played  the  part  on  the 
stage  the  night  before  ? 

The  true  position  of  the  Gipsies 
is  described  as  follows : — "  Here  we 
have  ethnology  on  its  legs — a  wild 
Oriental  race  dropt  into  the  midst -of 
all  the  nations  of  Europe,  and  legal- 
ly and  socially  proscribed  by  them, 
yet  drawing  into  their  body  much 
of  the  blood  of  other  people  and 
incorporating  it  with  their  own,  and 
assimilating  to  the  manners  of  the 
countries  in  which  they  live  ;  some- 
times threading  their  way  by  mar- 
riage through  native  families,  and 
maintaining  their  identity,  in  a  more 
or  less  mixed  state,  in  the  world, 
notwithstanding  their  having  no  re- 
ligion peculiar  to  themselves,  like 


the  Jews."  In  the  Gipsies  we  have 
a  race,  mixed  as  it  is,  that  is  dis- 
tinct from  any  other,  having  blood, 
language  or  w|rds,  a  cast  of  mind, 
signs,  and  a  sort  of  masonic  society 
extending  over  the  world — all  of 
comparatively  recent  appearance  in 
Europe — which  hold  them  together 
in  feeling  and,  to  a  certain  extent, 
association,  in  the  face  of  the  popu- 
lar prejudice  against  the  name, 
which  none  of  them  will  acknow- 
ledge, after  leaving  the  tent  for 
"  tramping  "  or  any  calling  in  set- 
tled society.  There  is  in  this  sub- 
ject, when  fully  explained,  much  to 
interest  a  variety  of  societies,  classes 
of  people,  and  kinds  of  readers ; 
who  cannot  say  when  investigating 
it  that  they  do  not  find  facts  and 
arguments  to  demonstrate  what  is 
set  forth,  for  the  work  contains  a 
superabundance  of  such.  In  ap- 
proaching the  subject,  however,  it  is 
necessary  that  people  should  divest 
themselves  of  preconceived  ideas, 
and  advance  in  it  as  far  as  the  facts 
will  lead  them.  They  should  like- 
wise show  that  moral  and  social 
courage,  in  the  face  of  public  opin- 
ion, that  is  so  necessary  towards  ac- 
knowledging the  tribe,  and  extend- 
ing to  it  the  respect  that  is  shown  to 
similar  classes  of  the  ordinary  na- 
tives, whatever  the  origin  of  the 
former,  and  their  sympathies  with  the 
tribe  at  home  or  scattered  over  the 
world.* 

*  Dated  August  2Oth,  1873. 


MR.   BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


first  thought  which  a  physi- 
cian  should  have  is  for  his  pa- 
tient, a  lawyer  for  his  client,  and  an 
author  for  his  subject,  in  all  its  as- 
pects, whether  good,  bad,  or  indif- 
ferent— each  leaving  himself  out  of 


consideration.  It  cannot  be  said 
that  Mr.  Borrow  has  obeyed  this 
law  in  regard  to  the  Gipsies,  for,  as 
far  as  my  memory  serves  me,  he  has 
neglected  to  comment  on,  admit,  or 
reject  the  facts  and  opinions  of  his 


MR.  BORROW  AS  AN  A  UTHORITY. 


case  as  discovered  and  advanced  by 
others,  assuming  that  he  ever  ex- 
amined them ;  and  has  put  forth 
his  own  ideas  only,  as  if  nothing 
had  been  said  by  others  before  or 
besides  him,  and  given  inconsiderate 
and  vague  suppositions  for  realities, 
and  unfounded  and  illogical  asser- 
tions for  carefully-considered  induc- 
tive reasonings. 

The  History  of  the  Gipsies,  with 
Specimens  of  the  Gipsy  Language, 
by  Walter  Simson,  with  Preface, 
Introduction  and  Notes,  and  a  Dis- 
quisition on  the  past,  present,  and 
future  of  the  race,  by  myself,  pub- 
lished towards  the  end  of  1865, 
contained,  in  my  opinion,  an  ample 
refutation  of  much  that  Mr.  Borrow 
had  advanced  ;  but  I  did  not  expect 
him  to  make  any  reply  to  it,  and  far 
less  admit  what  was  advanced  and, 
I  may  say,  proved.  The  book  just 
published  by  him,  under  the  title  of 
Romano  Lavo-Lil,  has  fully  justified 
my  conclusion ;  for  he  has  complete- 
ly ignored  all  that  was  said,  and 
will  apparently  do  so  for  the  future, 
if  the  world  will  allow  him  to  do  it. 
As  an  author,  he  is  evidently  a  very 
self-willed,  opinionative,  and  capri- 
cious gentleman,  that  is  full  of  hard, 
hide-bound  dogmatisms  that  are  dif- 
ficult of  being  driven  out  of  him, 
whatever  the  means  that  may  be 
resorted  to  for  that  purpose. 

Ag  the  History  of  the  Gipsies  has 
apparently  been  little  noticed,  and  I 
dare  say  as  little  read  (although 
doubtless  seen  by  Mr.  Borrow),  I 
will  give  some  extracts  from  it,  bear- 
ing on  him,  with  regard  to  the  most 
important  parts  of  what  he  has 
written  on  the  subject.  These, 
however,  are  only  a  part  of  what 
has  been  said  in  regard  to  him ;  and 
for  the  remainder  the  reader  is  re- 
ferred to  his  name  in  the  index  to 
the  book  itself.  What  is  contained 
in  these  extracts  will  be  all  the  more 
satisfactory  on  account  of  it  not 
having  been  got  up  for  the  present 
occasion,  but  confirmed  by  nine 
jrears'  reflection  since  the  history 

8 


appeared  ;  while  it  applies  to  much 
that  is  contained  in  the  work  just 
published.* 

It  strikes  me  as  something  very  singu- 
lar that  Mr.  Borrow,  "  whose  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Gipsy  race,  in  general, 
dates  from  a  very  early  period  of  his 
life ;"  who  "  has  lived  more  with  Gip- 
sies than  Scotchmen  ;"  and  than  whom 
"  no  one  ever  enjoyed  better  opportuni- 
ties for  a  close  scrutiny  of  their  ways 
and  habits,"  should  have  told  us  so  lit- 
tle about  the  Gipsies.  In  all  his  writings 
on  the  Gipsies,  he  alludes  to  two  mixed 
Gipsies  only — the  Spanish  half-pay  cap- 
tain, and  the  English  flaming  tinman — 
in  a  way  as  if  these  were  the  merest  of 
accidents,  and  meant  nothing.  He  has 
told  us  nothing  of  the  Gipsies  but  what 
was  known  before,  with  the  exception, 
as  far  as  my  memory  serves  me,  of  the 
custom  of  the  Spanish  Gipsy  dressing 
her  daughter  in  such  a  way  as  to  protect 
her  virginity  ;  the  existence  of  the  tribe, 
in  a  civilized  state,  in  Moscow ;  and  the 
habit  of  the  members  of  the  race  pos- 
sessing two  names  ;  all  of  which  are, 
doubtless,  interesting  pieces  of  informa- 
tion. In  Mr.  Borrow's  writings  upon 
the  Gipsies,  we  find  only  sketches  of 
certain  individuals  of  the  race,  whom  he 
seems  to  have  fallen  in  with,  and  not  a 
proper  account  of  the  nation.  These 
writings  have  done  more  injury  to  the 
tribe  than,  perhaps,  anything  that  ever 
appeared  on  the  subject.  I  have  met 
with  Gipsies — respectable  young  men — 
who  complained  bitterly  of  Mr.  Bor- 
row's account  of  their  race  ;  and  they 
did  that  with  good  reason  ;  for  his  at- 
tempt at  generalization  on  the  subject  of 
the  people  is  as  great  a  curiosity  as 
ever  I  set  my  eyes  upon.  How  un- 
satisfactory are  Mr.  Borrow's  opinions 
on  the  Gipsy  question,  when  he  speaks 
of  the  *'  decadence"  of  the  race,  when 
it  is  only  passing  from  its  first  stage  of 

*  When  the  extracts  are  from  my  con- 
tribution to  the  work,  they  will  be  so 
marked  ;  the  others  are  from  the  history 
proper.  I  make  no  apology  for  the  length 
of  the  extracts  given  in  this  article,  for 
the  reason  that  a  meal  is  more  accepta- 
ble than  a  tantalizing  mouthful.  What  I 
have  said  of  a  naturalist  applies  equally 
well  to  this  subject,  that  one  "  cannot  be 
too  full  and  circumstantial,  exact  and 
logical  in  his  information,  to  make  it  of 
any  use  in  settling  a  question  like  the  one 
under  consideration  "  (p.  36.) 


114 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


existence — the  tent.  This  he  does  in 
his  Appendix  to  the  Romany  Rye  ;  and 
it  is  nearly  all  that  can  be  drawn  from 
his  writings  on  the  Gipsies,  in  regard  to 
their  future  history  (Ed.,  p.  523). 

We  have  already  seen  how  a  writer 
in  Blackwood's  Magazine  gravely  as- 
serts, that,  although  "Billy  Marshall 
left  descendants  numberless,  the  race,  of 
which  he  was  one,  was  in  danger  of  be- 
coming extinct ;"  when,  in  fact,  it  had 
only  passed  from  its  first  stage  of  exist- 
ence— the  tent,  into  its  second — tramp- 
ing, without  the  tent;  and  after  that, 
into  its  ultimate  stage — a  settled  life. 
We  have  likewise  seen  how  Sir  Walter 
Scott  imagines  that  the  Scottish  Gipsies 
have  decreased,  since  the  time  of 
Fletcher,  of  Saltoun,  about  the  year 
1680,  from  100,000  to  500,  by  "  the  pro- 
gress of  time,  and  increase  in  the  means 
of  life,  and  the  power  of  the  laws."  Mr. 
Borrow  has  not  gone  one  step  ahead  of 
these  writers  ;  and,  although  I  naturally 
enough  excuse  them,  I  am  not  inclined 
to  let  him  go  scot-free,  since  he  has  set 
himself  forward  so  prominently  as  an 
authority  on  the  Gipsy  question  (Ed.,  p. 
447).  It  would  be  a  treat  to  have  a 
treatise  from  Mr.  Borrow  upon  the 
Gipsy  race  "  dying  out "  by  "  changing 
its  habits,"  or  by  the  acts  of  any  gov- 
ernment, or  by  ideas  of  "gentility" 
(Ed.,  p.  45o)- 

If  there  is  little  reason  for  thinking 
that  the  Gipsies  left  India  owing  to  the 
cruelties   of  Timour,   there  is  less  for 
supposing,  as  Mr.  Borrow  supposes,  that 
their  being  called  Egyptians  originated, 
not  with  themselves,  but  with  others  ; 
for  he  says  that  the  tale  of  their  be- 
ing   Egyptians     "probably    originated 
amongst  the  priests  and  learned  men  of 
the   East  of  Europe,  who,   startled  by 
the  sudden  apparition  of  bands  of  peo- 
ple foreign  in  appearance  and  language, 
skilled  in  divination  and  the  occult  arts, 
endeavoured  to  find  in  Scripture  a  clue 
to  such  a  phenomenon  ;  the  result   oi 
which  was  that  the  Romas  (Gipsies)  oi 
Hindostan  were  suddenly  transformed 
into  Egyptian  penitents,  a  title  which 
they  have  ever  since  borne   in  various 
parts    of   Europe."    Why   should   the 
priests  and  learned  men  of  the  East  o 
Europe  go  to  the  Bible  to  find  the  ori 
gin  of  such  a  people  as    the  Gipsies 
What  did  priests  and  learned  men  knov 
of  the  Bible  at  the  beginning  of  the  fif 
teenth    century?     Did   every  priest 


that  time,  know  there  even  was  such  a 
book  as  the  Bible  in  existence  ?     The 
priests  and  learned  men  of  the  East  of 
Europe  were  more  likely  to  turn  to  the 
Eastern  nations  for  the   origin  of  the 
Gipsies,  than  to  Egypt,  were  the  mere 
matter  of  the  skill  of  the   Gipsies  in 
divination  and  the  occult  arts  to  lead 
them  to  make  any  inquiry  into  their  his- 
tory.    When  the   Gipsies   entered  Eu- 
rope, they  would  feel  under  the  neces- 
sity of  saying  who  they  were.     Having 
committed    themselves    to   that  point, 
how  could  they  afterwards  call  them- 
selves by  that  name  which  Mr.  Borrow 
supposes  the  priests  and  learned  men  to 
have  given  them  ?     Or,  I  should  rather 
say,  how  could  the  priests  and  learned 
men  think  of  giving  them  a  name  after 
hey  themselves  had  said  who  they  were  ? 
And  did  the  priests  and  learned  men  in- 
ent the  idea  of  the  Gipsies  being  pil- 
grims, or  bestow  upon  their  leaders  the 
itles  of  dukes,  earls,  lords,  counts  and 
mights  of   Little  Egypt?      Assuredly 
not  ;  all  these  matters  must  have  origi- 
nated with  the  Gipsies  themselves.  The 
truth  is,  Mr.  Borrow  has  evidently  had 
no  opportunities  of  learning,  or  at  least 
las    not    duly    appreciated,    the    real 
mental  acquirements  of  the  early  Gip- 
sies ;  an  idea  of  which  will  be  found  in 
the  history  of  the  race  on  their  first 
general  arrival  in  Scotland,  about  a  hun- 
dred years  after  they  were  first  taken 
notice  of  in  Europe,  during  which  time 
they  are  not  supposed  to  have  made  any 
3-reat    progress     in    mental    condition. 
What  evidently  leads  Mr.  Borrow  and 
others  astray  in  the  matter  of  the  origin 
of  the  Gipsies,   is,  that  they  conclude 
that,  because  the   language  spoken  by 
the  Gipsies  is  apparently,   or  for  the 
most  part,  Hindostanee,   therefore  the 
people  speaking  it  originated  in  Hindos- 
tan ;  as  just  a  conclusion  as  it  would  be 
to  maintain  that  the  Negroes  in  Liberia 
originated    in    England    because  they 
speak  the  English  language  !     (Ed.,  p. 

39). 

Mr.  Borrow  gives  a  very  interest- 
ing and,  on  the  face  of  it,  reliable 
account  of  a  visit  he  paid  to  Yeth- 
olm,  to  "  interview  "  the  Queen  of 
the  Scottish  Gipsies.  The  first 
woman  he  accosted  denied  the  im- 
peachment that  she  was  a  Gipsy,  by 
saying,  "  Na,  na,  sir  !  I  am  the 


sayng 
bairn  of 


decent   parents,  and   be- 


&IS  VISIT  TO   YETHOLM. 


long  not  to  Kirk  Yetholm,  but  to 
Haddington  "  (p.  308).  She,  how- 
ever, gave  him  this  sage  counsel : — 
"  I  wish  to  caution  you  when  you  get 
to  the  speech  of  the  queen,  not  to  put 
any  speerings  to  her  about  a  certain 
tongue  or  dialect  which  they  say  the 
Gipsies  have.  All  the  Gipsies  become 
glum  and  dour  as  soon  as  they  are  spo- 
ken to  about  their  language,  and  partic- 
ularly the  queen.  The  queen  might 
say  something  uncivil  to  your  honour, 
should  you  ask  her  questions  about  her 
language"  (p.  311). 

The  next  woman,  with  blue  eyes, 
"  who  had  had  her  eye  on  his  honour 
for  some  time  past,"  was  related  to 
the  queen,  and  as  indignantly  de- 
nied the  impeachment  that  she  was 
not  a  Gipsy.  She  conducted  him 
to  her  majesty,  who  said,  "  I  am 
a  Gipsy,  and  a  real  one ;  I  am  not 
ashamed  of  my  blood"  (p.  315). 
As  usual  with  the  race,  she  denied 
all  knowledge  of  the  language,  till  she 
was  nettled  into  admitting  it.  Af- 
ter finding  that  it  was  "  safe  to  talk 
to  him  on  Gipsy  matters,"  she  was 
willing  to  do  it  as  long  as  he  liked, 
and  added  : — 

"  I  am  now  ready  to  talk  to  you  as 
much  as  you  please  about  Nokkum 
words  and  matters,  for  I  see  there  is  no 
danger.  But  I  tell  you  frankly  that 
had  I  not  found  that  you  knew  as  much 
as,  or  a  great  deal  more  than,  myself, 
not  a  hundred  pounds,  nor  indeed  all 
the  money  in  Berwick,  should  have  in- 
duced me  to  hold  discourse  with  you 
about  the  words  and  matters  of  the 
Brown  Children  of  Kirk  Yetholm " 
(p.  318). 

Mr.  Borrow  then  goes  on  to  say : — 

"  I  soon  found  that  her  knowledge  of 
Romany  was  anything  but  extensive ; 
far  less  so,  indeed,  than  that  of  the  com- 
monest English  Gipsy  woman.  .  .  . 
.  .  I  should  say  that  the  sum  total 
of  her  vocabulary  barely  amounted  to 
three  hundred  words  [a  very  unreliable 
estimate,  after  a  short,  or  comparatively 
short,  interview,  for  we  are  not  told  how 
long,  it  lasted].  Even  of  these  there 
were  several  which  were  not  pure  Gipsy 
words  ;  that  is,  belonging  to  the  speech 
which  the  ancient  Zingary  brought  with 
them  to  Britain.  Some  of  her  bastard 


Gipsy  words  belonged  to  the  cant  or  al- 
legorical jargon  of  thieves  "  (p.  319). 
"After  all,  her  knowledge  of  gentle 
Romany  was  not  altogether  to  be 
sneezed  at  "  (p.  322).  "  She  said  that 
.  .  .  .  slight  as  I  might  consider 
her  knowledge  of  Romany  to  be,  it  was 
far  greater  than  that  of  any  other  Gipsy 
on  the  Border,  or  indeed  in  the  whole  of 
Scotland  ;  and  that,  as  for  the  Nokkums, 
there  was  not  one  on  the  Green  who 
was  acquainted  with  half-a-dozen  words 
of  Romany  [all  these  assertions  would 
require  to  be  proved],  though  the  few 
words  they  had  [doubtless,  more  than 
five,  although  she  said  that  not  one 
of  them  had  six]  they  prized  high 
enough,  and  would  rather  part  with 
their  hearts'  blood  than  communicate 
them  to  a  stranger  "  *  (p.  321). 


*  Of  the  Gipsy  language  at  Yetholm, 
Mr.  Baird,  the  minister  of  the  parish, 
wrote,  in  1840,  thus  : — 

"  It  farther  appears  from  these  speci- 
mens of  words  and  expressions  used  by 
the  Yetholm  Gipsies,  that  they  have  by 
no  means  a  complete  language,  but  that 
they  are  in  the  habit  of  connecting  their 
own  words  by  the  pronouns  and  other 
smaller  words  of  our  language.  .  .  . 
It  is  a  secret  with  them  ;  all  of  them  will 
at  first  positively  and  repeatedly  deny 
that  they  have  any  language  peculiar  to 
themselves.  It  was  only  by  some  man- 
agement that  I  obtained  from  them  the 
list  I  have  now  given.  The  children, 
however,  are  known  to  speak  it  when 
they  imagine  no  one  overhears  them. 
Their  parents  carefully  instruct  them  in 
this  branch  of  knowledge.  The  grown- 
up Gipsies  also,  when  they  are  a  little  off 
their  guard — on  the  occasion  of  any  of 
their  merry-meetings,  for  instance— fre- 
quently converse,  in  the  hearing  of 
others,  in  their  strange  jargon." 

It  is  not  likely  that  of  the  children  above 
referred  to  (or  such  like  them),  "there 
was  not  one  on  the  Green  who  was  ac- 
quainted with  half-a-dozen  words  of  Ro- 
many "  in  1866,  when  they  arrived  at 
ages  ranging  from  thirty  to  forty  years. 
Mr.  Baird  had  good  opportunities  for 
judging  of  this  subject ;  and  it  is  not  to 
be  thought  of  that  these  children  should 
have  lost  the  language  at  the  time  Mr. 
Borrow  visited  them,  when  the  five,  or  less 
than  five,  words  they  had  they  prized  so 
highly  that  they  would  "  rather  part  with 
their  hearts'  blood  than  communicate 
them  to  a  stranger."  And  the  queen's 
"  knowing  more  Gipsy  than  anyone  in 
Scotland,"  must  be  received  with  the 
same  reserved  consideration. 


Ji6 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


She  then  said  that  if  her  people 
on  the  Green  were  spoken  to  on  the 
subject  of  the  language,  "they 
would  merely  turn  up  their  noses, 
and  say  they  had  no  Gaelic.  You 
would  not  find  them  so  communica- 
tive as  me.  The  Nokkums,  in  gen- 
eral, are  a  dour  set,  sir"  (p.  321). 
The  tricks  that  were  mentioned  to 
her  "  were  occasionally  done,  not 
by  the  Nokkums^  but  by  other  Gip- 
sies, with  whom  her  people  had  no 
connection"  (p.  323). 

On  parting  with  her,  she  said  she 
would  be  delighted  to  have  him 
call  on  her  the  following  day,  the 
request  being  his.  "  On  going,  how- 
ever, on  the  following  day,  which 
was  Sunday,  I  found  the  garden- 
gate  locked  and  the  window-shutters 
up,  plainly  denoting  that  there  was 
nobody  at  home  "  (p.  326).  She 
had  evidently  got  frightened  at  her 
indiscretion,  as  is  always  the  case 
with  the  Scottish  Gipsies,  and  spread 
the  alarm  and  fled,  leaving  "  some  o' 
her  laddies  "  to  watch  the  intruder. 
"  Seeing  some  men  lying  on  the  hill, 
a  little  way  above,  who  appeared  to 
be  observing  me,  I  went  up  to  them 
for  the  purpose  of  making  inquiries. 
They  were  all  young  men  [the  old- 
est not  more  than  three-and-twenty], 
and  decently,  though  coarsely, 
dressed.  None  wore  the  Scottish 
cap  or  bonnet,  but  all  the  hat  of 
England"  (p.  326).  "I  greeted 
them  civilly,  but  received  no  saluta- 
tion in  return  "  (p.  327).  Then  he 
tried  them  with  two  catch-words, 
which  were  answered,  in  both  in- 
stances, by  a  turn-up  of  the  nose, 
as  the  queen  told  him  would  be  the 
case.  "  Good-day,  said  I,  and 
turned  away.  I  received  no  coun- 
ter-salutation "  (p.  328). 

Next  day  there  was  to  be  a  fair 
held  near  Kelso,  to  which  he  went, 
"  determined  to  be  even  with  her," 
as  he  felt  sure  of  meeting  her  there ; 
but  he  made  a  mistake  if  he  imag- 
ined she  would  look  "  black-affront- 
ed," after  giving  him  the  slip,  for 
they  "met  in  the  most  cordial  man- 


ner— smirks  and  giggling  on  her 
side,  smiles  and  nodding  on  mine  " 
(p-  329)' 

"  After  the  smirks,  smiles,  and  saluta- 
tions were  over,  I  inquired  whether 
there  were  many  Gipsies  in  the  fair. 

Plenty,'  said  she,  '  plenty  Tates,  An- 
dersons, Reeds,  and  many  others.  That 
woman  is  an  Anderson — yonder  is  a 
Tate,'  said  she,  pointing  to.  two  com- 
mon-looking females.  '  Have  they  much 
Romany  ? '  said  I.  '  No,'  said  she, 
'  scarcely  a  word. '  '  I  think  I  shall  go 
and  speak  to  them,'  said  I.  '  Don't,' 
said  she  ;  '  they  would  only  be  uncivil 
to  you.  Moreover,  they  have  nothing 
of  that  kind — on  the  word  of  a  rauunie, 
they  have  not '  "  (p.  330). 

She  had  doubtless  got  frightened 
at  the  idea  of  him  compromising 
her  with  the  other  Gipsies  at  the  fair, 
and  letting  the  cat  out  of  the  bag, 
and  as  a  last  resource,  to  decoy  him 
away  from  them,  added,  "on  the 
word  of  a  raivnie"  that  they  had 
none  of  the  language,  after  she  had 
said  that  they  had  scarcely  a  wora 
of  it.  She  could  easily  be  excused 
for  playing  him  hukni,  or  false,  after 
being  trapped  into  divulging  her 
language;  and  if  she  did ^ it  once, 
she  could  do  it  again,  notwithstand- 
ing Mr.  Borrow  being  satisfied  to 
the  contrary.  The  publication  of 
the  "  interview  "  should  also  extenu- 
ate the  trifling  offence,  if  offence  it 
was.  If  the  Gipsies  can  be  excused 
for  promising  a  thing  and  "  belying 
it  "  in  a  whisper  to  themselves,  it  is 
when  their  language  is  in  considera- 
tion, for  that  is  the  last  thing  they 
will  generally  give  to  a  stranger. 

Both  the  queen  and  her  relation 
that  conducted  Mr.  Borrow  to  her 
he  says,  had  blue  eyes,  which  does 
not  seem  to  have  struck  him  as  any- 
thing odd  when  found  in  the  head 
of  a  Gipsy.  Of  the  queen  he  says : — 

"  She  was  dressed  respectably  in 
black,  and  was  holding  the  arm  of  a 
stout  wench,  dressed  in  garments  of  the 
same  colour,  who,  she  said,  was  her 
niece,  and  a  rinkeni  rakli.  The  girl 
whom  she  called  rinkeni,  or  handsome, 
but  whom  I  did  not  consider  handsome 


HIS  VISIT  TO   YETHOLM. 


117 


[standards  and  tastes  differ],  had  much 
of  the  appearance  of  one  of  those  Irish 
girls,  born  in  London,  whom  one  so 
frequently  sees  carrying  milk-pails  about 
the  streets  of  the  metropolis  "  (p.  329). 

The  two  Gipsy  women  whom  the 
queen  pointed  out  to  him  at  the  fair 
he  describes  as  "common-looking 
females."  And  the  young  men,  who 
had  evidently  been  set  to  watch  the 
"tall  lusty  man,  with  a  skellying 
look  with  the  left  eye  "  (p.  322),  that 
entered  the  village,  firing  off  Gipsy 
words  right  and  left — so  different 
from  the  ordinary  visitors,  who  gen- 
erally come  in  companies,  with  fe- 
males among  them — he  describes 
thus:  — 

"Their  countenances  were  rather 
dark,  but  had  nothing  of  the  vivacious 
expression  observable  in  the  Gipsy  face 
['  they  were  lying  on  their  bellies,  oc- 
casionally kicking  their  heels  into 
the  air'],  but  much  of  the  dogged, 
sullen  look  which  makes  the  counte- 
nances of  the  generality  of  the  Irish 
who  inhabit  London  and  some  other 
of  the  large  English  towns  so  disagree- 
able "  (p.  327].  "They  were  a  hard, 
sullen,  cautious  set,  in  whom  a  few 
drops  of  Gipsy  blood  were  mixed  with 
some  Scottish  and  a  much  larger  quan- 
tity of  low  Irish.  Between  them  and 
their  queen  a  striking  difference  was  ob- 
servable. In  her  there  was  both  fun 
and  cordiality  [and  doubtless  plenty  of 
sullenness  and  revenge,  had  they  been 
called  forth]  ;  in  them  not  the  slightest 
appearance  of  either  [for  they  were  per- 
haps ready  to  fly  at  him,  like  so  many 
tigers,  whatever  frolic  or  devilment  they 
might  indulge  in  at  other  times].*  What 


*  The  first  woman  Mr.  Borrow  spoke 
to  said  of  old  Will  Faa's  house: — "It 
still  is  an  inn,  and  has  always  been  an 
inn  ;  and  though  it  has  such  an  eerie 
look,  it  is  sometimes  lively  enough,  more 
especially  after  the  Gipsies  have  returned 
from  their  summer  excursions  in  the  coun- 
try. It's  a  roaring  place  then.  They  spend 
most  of  their  sleight-o'-hand  gains  in  that 
house"  (p.  309).  [Considering  what  is 
popularly  understood  to  be  the  natural 
disposition  and  capacity  of  the  Gipsies, 
we  would  readily  conclude  that  to  turn 
innkeepers  would  be  the  most  unlikely 
of  all  their  employments  ;  yet  that  is  very 
common.  Mohammed  said, "  If  the  moun- 
tain will  not  come  to  us,  we  will  go  to  the 


was  the  cause  of  this  disparity  ?  The 
reason  [and  a  very  odd  one  indeed]  was, 
they  were  neither  the  children  nor  the 
grandchildren  of  real  Gipsies,  but  only 
the  remote  descendants,  [and,  paradoxi- 
cal as  it  may  appear,  still  Gipsies,  own- 
ing allegiance  to  a  Gipsy  queen], whereas 
she  was  the  granddaughter  of  two  gen- 
uine Gipsies,  old  Will  Faa  and  his  wife 
[of  both  of  whose  pedigrees  he  is  doubt- 
less ignorant],  whose  daughter  was  her 
mother ;  so  that. she  might  be  considered 
all  but  a  thorough  Gipsy  [even  with  her 
blue  eyes,  and  his  asking  her  whether 
she  was  a  '  mumping  woman  '  or  a  true 
Gipsy]  ;  for  being  by  her  mother's  side  a 
Gipsy,  she  was  of  course  much  more  so 
than  she  would  have  been  had:  she 
sprung  from  a  Gipsy  father  and  a  Gen- 
tile mother;  the  qualities  of  a  child, 
both  mental  and  bodily,  depending 
much  less  on  the  father  than  on  the 
mother  [saying  nothing  of  the  special 
Gipsy  training  the  child  receives  from 
its  mother  and  her  relations,  before  its 
earliest  recollection,  as  described  in  the 
Disquisition  on  the  Gipsies,  pages  379- 
381].  Had  her  father  been  a  Faa,  in- 
stead of  her  mother,  I  should  probably 
never  have  heard  from  her  lips  a  single 
word  of  Romany  [did  he  never  know  a 
case  of  the  kind  ?],  but  found  her  as  sul- 
len and  inductile  as  the  Nokkums  [or 
Gipsies]  on  the  Green  [for  what  reason  ?], 
whom  it  was  of  little  more  use  question- 
ing than  so  many  stones  f"  (p.  328). 

mountain."  The  Gipsies  say,  "If  "we  do 
not  go  to  the  people,  the  people  must 
come  to  us;"  and  so  they  open  their 
houses  of  entertainment  (Ed.,  p.  467).] 

f  The  probability  mentioned  by  Mr. 
Borrow  would  be  to  the  contrary.  He 
says  that  Thomas  Herne,  whose  mother 
was  a  "  Gentile  of  Oxford,"  when  ninety- 
two  years  of  age,  "could  not  talk  much 
Gipsy,  but  understood  almost  all  that  I 
said  to  him  "  (p.  157).  "  His  face  was  as 
red  as  a  winter  apple,  and  his  hair  was 
rather  red  than  grey"  (p.  155).  His  son, 
aged  seventy,  was  in  one  of  the  caravans  ; 
and  of  his  grandson,  aged  thirty-five,  who 
was  also  "  around,"  nothing  is  said  beyond 
his  being  "a  good-looking  and  rather 
well-dressed  man,  with  something  of  a 
knowing  card  in  his  countenance "  (p. 
159).  The  old  man  admitted  he  was  a 
half-and-half,  but  "  seemed  to  be  rather 
ashamed  of  being  of  Gipsy  blood"  (p. 
157),  and  "  never  had  any  particular  liking 
for  the  Gipsy  manner  of  living,"  although 
he  had  followed  it  all  his  life,  excepting 
when  fourteen  years  in  the  militia.  This 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


These  Scotch  Gipsies  seem  to  have 
ruffled  Mr.  Sorrow's  feathers  con- 
siderably. He  calls  them  a  "  hard, 
sullen,  cautious  set,"  whom  he  could 
not  pump ;  yet  he  gives  them  credit 
for  good  manners,  for  he  says  that 
as  he  "  went  down  the  hill,  there 
was  none  of  the  shouting  and  laugh- 
ter which  generally  follow  a  discom- 
fited party"  (p.  328).  They  were 
doubtless  glad  to  see  him  leave  the 
village,  after  causing  the  flight  of 
the  queen  from  it. 

There  is  a  good  deal  to  be  said 
in  regard  to  Mr.  Sorrow's  visit  to 
Yetholm.  He  arrived  there  "late 
in  the  afternoon,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  August,  in  the  year  1866." 
The  first  woman  he  spoke  to  took 
leave  of  him  "  to  boil  water  for  her 
tea ;"  and  the  next  one  he  saluted 
with,  "A  fine  evening."  By  the 
time  he  was  "  presented "  to  the 
queen  it  was  probably  seven  o'clock, 
and  ten  when  he  left  her ;  and  if  we 
allow  an  hour  for  general  conversa- 
tion, we  would  have  two  hours  for 
the  Gipsy  language,  one  half  of 
which  was  in  all  probability  taken 
up  by  Mr.  Borrow  himself.*  How, 
then,  did  he  arrive  at  the  conclusion 
that  the  "  sum  total  of  her  vocabu- 
lary barely  amounted  to  three  hun- 
dred words  ?"  If  she  had  given 
him  them,  one  after  the  other,  so 
that  he  could  count  them,  she  would 
have  yielded  him  five  words  per  min- 
ute. But  she  evidently  did  not  do 
that,  the  conversation  apparently 
taking  a  different  turn.  His  esti- 
mate of  her  language,  so  far  as  the 
number  of  her  words  was  concerned, 
was  doubtless  a  vague  conjecture. 
He  certainly  furnishes  no  data  to 

way  of  speaking  is  very  common  with 
mixed  Gipsies,  in  their  intercourse  with 
others  that  are  outside  of  their  fraternity, 
and  have  no  sympathy  with  them.  Mr. 
Borrow  says  nothing  of  the  relation  of 
the  son  and  grandson  of  Thomas  Herne 
to  the  Gipsy  tribe  generally. 

*  Mr.  Borrow  would  have  been  lucky 
had  his  interview  with  the  Gipsy  lasted 
three  hours. 


enable  us  to  take  his  view  of  the 
question. 

No  sooner  had  Mr.  Borrow  enter- 
ed the  village  than  he  was  watched 
and  approached.  "  Come  to  see  the 
Gipsy  town,  sir  ? "  said  the  first 
woman,  before  she  had  been  spoken 
to.  "  Does  your  honour  know  who 
once  lived  in  that  house  ?  .  .  That 
man,  your  honour,  was  old  Will 
Faa."  The  other  woman,  who  was 
a  Gipsy,  and  related  to  the  queen, 
and  "  had  her  eye  on  his  honour  for 
some  time  past — expecting  to  be 
asked  about  the  queen,  for  scarcely 
anybody  comes  to  Yetholm  but  goes 
to  see  the  queen  " — looked  up  when 
addressed,  and  asked,  "  Come  to  see 
the  town  ?  .  .  .  and  I  suppose  come 
to  see  the  Gipsies,  too  ?  "  with  a  half 
smile.  '  "  Many  gentle  folks  from 
England  come  to  see  the  Gipsy 
queen  of  Yetholm.  Follow  me,  sir." 
The  first  woman  said  that  the  queen 
was  "led  about  the  town  once  a  year, 
mounted  on  a  cuddy  [donkey],  with 
a  tin  crown  on  her  head,  with  much 
shouting,  and  with  many  a  barbaric 
ceremony ;  .  .  .  and  some  go  so  far 
as  to  say  that  they  merely  crowned 
her  queen  in  hopes  of  bringing  grist 
to  the  Gipsy  mill"  (p.  310).  The 
"calling"  of  the  queen  (whose  name, 
I  believe,  is  Esther  Blythe)  is,  there- 
fore, to  make  herself  agreeable ;  al- 
though it  could,  perhaps,  be  said  of 
her,  that  she  is  like  a  cat's  paw — all 
velvet,  or  all  claw.  "  She  came  to- 
wards me  with  much  smiling,  smirk- 
ing, and  nodding,  as  if  I  had  kriown 
her  for  three-score  years"  (p.  314). 
But  when  he  addressed  her  in  Gipsy, 
she  exclaimed,  in  an  angry  tone, 
"  Why  do  you  talk  to  me  in  that 
manner,  and  in  that  gibberish  ?  I 
don't  understand  a  word  of  it "  (p. 
315).  And  then  she  said  to  him  : — 
"  You  pretend  to  understand  the  Gip- 
sy language  :  if  I  find  you  do  not,  I 
will  hold  no  further  discourse  with 
you  ;  and  the  sooner  you  take  your- 
self off  the  better.  If  I  find  you  do, 
I  will  talk  with  you  as  long  as  you 
like  "  (p.  316).  "  Now,  I  have  but 


fflS  VISIT  TO   YETHOLM. 


119 


one  more  question  to  ask  you,  and 
when  I  have  done  so,  you  may  as 
well  go ;  for  I  am  quite  sure  you 
cannot  answer  it.  What  is  Nok- 
kum V  (p.  318.)*  The  question 
was  answered,  and  they  were  im- 
mediately on  the  most  confidential 
of  terms.  "  Observing  her  eyeing 
me  rather  suspiciously,  I  changed 
the  subject ;  asking  her  if  she  had 
travelled  much  about"  (p.  324). 
"  Wishing  to  know  her  age,  I  in- 
quired of  her  what  it  was.  She 
looked  angry  [and  with  much  rea- 
son], and  said  she  did  not  know" 
(p.  326),  but  acknowledged  she  was 
sixty-eight.  However  the  "  queen  " 
may  levy  her  taxes,  or  draw  her 
revenue  (in  the  shape  of  presents 
and  what  not)  from  others,  she  be- 
haved with  great  delicacy  or  tact 


*  The  queen  said  that  the  Gipsies  have 
a  private  name  for  themselves,  which  is 
NokkTim  or  Nokkttms.  In  the  History  of 
the  Gipsies  we  find  the  following : — "  When 
I  have  spoken  to  them  in  their  own  words, 
I  have  been  asked,  'Are  you  a  Nawken  ?  ' 
a  word  to  which  they  attach  the  meaning 
of  a  "wanderer  or  traveller — one  who  can 
do  any  sort  of  work  for  himself  that  may 
be  required  in  the  \yorld "  (p.  340). 
"  Nawken  has  a  number  of  significations, 
such  as  Tinkler,  Gipsy,  a  wanderer,  a 
worker  in  iron,  a  man  who  can  do  any- 
thing for  himself  in  the  mechanical  arts, 
etc.,  etc."  (p.  315.) 

Mr.  Sorrow's  definition  of  the  word  is 
as  follows  : — "  The  root  of  nokkum  must 
be  nok,  which  signifieth  a  nose."  "  Yes, 
the  root  of  nokkum  is  assuredly  nok;  and 
I  have  no  doubt  that  your  people  call 
themselves  Nokkum,  because  they  are  in 
the  habit  of  nosing  the  Gorgios.  Nokkums 
means  Nosems"  (p.  318).  On  hearing  this 
the  queen  instantly  abdicated  in  his  fa- 
vo«r,  saying,  "  Sit  down,  sir,  ...  I  see 
there  is  no  danger." 

It  is  interesting  to  compare  Mr.  Bor- 
row's  spelling  of  Scottish  Gipsy  words 
with    that  of  others,  thus ; — 
English.    Sorrow.     Simson.     Baird. 

Nose.        Nok.        Nak.        Nak. 

Fire.          Yog.        Yak,        Yak. 

Stone.  Cloch.  Clack.  Clau$i. 
He  gives  Morbiittle  for  Morbattle  (an- 
ciently Morebotle\  but  that  might  have 
been  an  error  of  the  printer,  which  could 
not  be  said  of  Loughmaben  for  Loch- 
maben. 


with  Mr.  Borrow.  "  There  was 
something  of  the  gentlewoman  in 
her  :  on  my  offering  her  money  she 
refused  to  take  it,  saying  that  she 
did  not  want  it,  and  it  was  with  the 
utmost  difficulty  I  persuaded  her  to 
accept  a  trifle,  with  which,  she  said, 
she  would  buy  herself  some  tea" 
(p.  326).  Then  she  said  she  would 
be  delighted  to  have  him  call  again 
the  next  day ;  but  fled  from  the  vil- 
lage, as  we  have  seen. 

Mr.  Sorrow's  forte  is  evidently 
not  in  judging  of  circumstances,  and 
discriminating  in  character ;  for,  as 
we  have  already  seen,  he  contrasted 
her  deportment  with  that  of  the 
"  dour  set "  he  addressed  with  the 
view  of  learning  what  had  become 
of  their  queen,  when  he  found,  on 
returning  to  see  her,  according  to 
appointment,  that  her  house  was 
locked  up,  and  herself  not  to  be 
found.  This  is  what  he  said  of  the 
two,  under  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances of  the  case  :  —  "  Between 
them  and  their  queen  a  striking  dif- 
ference was  observable.  In  her 
there  was  both  fun  and  cordiality ; 
in  them  not  the  slightest  appearance 
of  either"  (p.  328) ;  the  reason  be- 
ing that  she  had  much  of  "  the 
blood,"  and  they  hardly  any  at  all ! 

Mr.  Borrow's  visit  to  Yetholm  is 
otherwise  unsatisfactory,  inasmuch 
as  it  led  to  no  information  about 
the  Gipsy  population  in  Scotland, 
and  various  matters  connected  with 
it.  It  is  true  that  he  had  not  time 
to  make  such  an  inquiry  at  the  first 
interview  with  the  queen ;  but  when 
he  met  her  at  the  fair,  the  next  day, 
and  found  her  all  "  smirks  and  gig- 
gling," he  could  have  made  another 
appointment  that  she  might  have 
kept,  and  stuck  to  her,  in  pursuit  of 
knowledge  under  difficulties,  par- 
ticularly as  he  had  her  consider- 
ably in  his  power. 

The  first  woman  he  met  with  at 
Yetholm  said  : — "  There  are  no  Faas 
to  keep  it  [old  Will  Faa's  house]. 
The  name  is  clean  dead  in  the  land, 
though  there  is  still  some  of  the 


I2O 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


blood  remaining  "  (p.  309)  ;  and  the 
queen  "  said  that  a  great  number  of 
the  Faas  had  come  in  the  old  time  to 
Yetholm,  and  settled  down  there,  and 
that  her  own  forefathers  had  always 
been  the  principal  people  among 
them"  (p.  322).  Now,  her  great- 
grandfather, old  Will  Faa,  who  died 
in  the  year  1783,  or  1784,  was  three 
times  married,  and  is  described  in 
the  History  of  the  Gipsies  as  fol- 
lows : — 

On  solemn  occasions,  Will  Faa  as- 
sumed, in  his  way,  all  the  stately  deport- 
ment of  sovereignty.  He  had  twenty- 
four  children,  and  at  each  of  their  chris- 
tenings he  appeared  dressed  in  his 
original  wedding-robes.  These  chris- 
tenings were  celebrated  with  no  small 
parade.  Twelve  young  hand-maidens 
were  always  present  as  part  of  the 
family  retinue,  and  for  the  purpose  of 
waiting  on  the  numerous  guests,  who 
assembled  to  witness  the  ceremony,  or 
partake  of  the  subsequent  festivities. 
Besides  Will's  Gipsy  associates,  several 
of  the  neighbouring  farmers  and  lairds, 
with  whom  he  was  on  terms  of  friendly 
intercourse  (among  others,  the  Mur- 
rays,  of  Cherry-trees),  used  to  attend 
these  christenings. — Blackiuood's  Mag- 
azine (Ed.,  p.  252). 

And  her  grandfather  (old  Will  Faa 
secundus),  who  died  in  1847,  and  for 
whom  a  fine  "  Lament "  appeared 
im  the  Scotsman  newspaper,  of  the 
2'Ofth  October  of  that  year,  doubtless 
left  a  family,  and  perhaps  a  large 
one  Sit  that.  I  have  alluded  to  one 
of  his  brothers,  John  Faa,  in  the 
History  of  the  Gipsies,  thus  : — 

Will  Faa  had  a  brother,  a  house- 
carpenter  in  New  York,who  survived  him 
a  few  years.  He  was  considered  a  fine 
old  man  by  those  who  knew  him.  He 
left  a  family  in  an  humble,  but  respect- 
able, way  of  doing.  The  Scottish 
Gipsy  throne  was  occupied  by  another 
family  pf  Gipsies,  in  consequence  of  this 
family  being  "  forth  of  Scotland."  There 
are  a  great  many  Faas,  under  one  name 
'or  other,  scattered  over  the  world 
(Ed.,  p.  255). 

The  Gipsies  in  general  are  great 
genea.lpgisjt.s,  .and  the  queen  in  par- 


ticular must,  doubtless,  have  been 
aware  of  what  had  become  of  many 
of  this  Faa  clan,  that  was  so  numer- 
ous about  Yetholm,  and  in  Scotland 
generally.  She  could  doubtless 
have  told  Mr.  Borrow  a  great  deal 
on  the  subject,  had  he  asked  her, 
and  found  her  communicative  in 
regard  to  it.  But  what  becomes  of 
the  Gipsies,  is  a  question  that  can- 
not be  settled  by  reference  to  any 
of  Mr.  Borrow's  writings,  although 
these  contain  a  few  incidental  re- 
marks that  throw  some  light  on  it, 
when  information  of  a  positive  and 
circumstantial  nature  is  added.  The 
account  which  he  has  given  of  his 
visit  to  Yetholm  confirms  what  is 
set  forth  in  the  History  of  the  Gip- 
sies, as  regards  the  secrecy  of  the 
race  in  connection  with  their  lan- 
guage, and  the  greatly  mixed  state 
of  "  the  blood  "  in  Scotland.  In 
the  History  of  the  Gipsies  we  find 
the  following  : — 

The  Scottish  Gipsies  appear  to  be  ex- 
tremely tenacious  of  retaining  their  lan- 
guage, as  their  principal  secret,  among 
themselves,  and  seem,  from  what  I  have 
read  on  the  subject,  to  be  much  less  com- 
municative, on  this  and  other  matters 
relative  to  their  history,  than  those  of 
England  and  other  countries.  On  speak- 
ing to  them  of  their  speech,  they  exhibit 
an  extraordinary  degree  of  fear,  caution, 
reluctance,  distrust,  and  suspicion  ;  and, 
rather  than  give  any  information  on  the 
subject,  will  submit  to  any  self-denial  (p. 
281),  although  the  people  themselves 
have  lived  amongst  us  for  three  hundred 
and  fifty  years,  anct  talked  it  every  hour 
of  the  day,  but  hardly  ever  in  the  hear- 
ing of  the  other  inhabitants,  excepting, 
occasionally,  a  word  of  it  now  and  then, 
to  disguise  their  discourse  from  those 
around  them  ;  which,  on  being  question- 
ed, they  have  always  passed  off  for  cant, 
to  prevent  the  law  taking  hold  of  them, 
and  punishing  them  for  being  Gipsies. 
These  details  will  also  show  that  our 
Scottish  Tinklers,  or  Gipsies,  are  sprung 
from  the  common  stock  from  which  are 
descended  those  that  are  to  be  found 
in  the  other  parts  of  Europe,  as  well  as 
those  that  are  scattered  over  the  world 
generally  ;  what  secrecy  they  observe  in 
all  matters  relative  to  their  affairs  ;  what 


GIPSY  SURNAMES  AND  CHILD-STEALING. 


121 


an  extraordinary  degree  of  reluctance 
and  fear  they  evince  in  answering  ques- 
tions tending  to  develop  their  histo- 
ry ;  and,  consequently,  how  difficult  it 
is  to  learn  anything  satisfactory  about 
them  (p,  291). 

In  dealing  with  Mr.  Borrow,  the 
great  thing  to  be  aimed  at  is  to  get 
him  committed  to  some  point  that 
can  be  tested  by  means  out  of  him- 
self, so  as  to  get  rid  of  assertion  and 
counter -assertion  in  any  question 
that  may  be  raised  with  him.  He 
furnishes  a  very  satisfactory  one 
when  he  says  : — "  There  are  only 
two  names  of  trades  which  have 
been  adopted  by  English  Gipsies  as 
proper  names — Cooper  and  Smith  " 
(p.  225).  If  he  had  turned  to  Hoy- 
land's  Survey  of  the  Gipsies,  he 
would  have  found,  in  addition  to 
these,  the  names  of  Taylor,  Draper, 
and  Glover.  One  English  Gipsy 
family  I  know  of  the  name  of 
Brewer,  and  there  are  doubtless  a 
variety  of  such  names.  As  illus- 
trating the  surnames  of  English 
Gipsies,  I  mention  two  families  of 
the  names  of  Herring  and  Salmon  : 
the  first  I  know  from  reliable  infor- 
mation, and  the  other  from  personal 
intimacy,  that  is,  Gipsies  by  admis- 
sion, and  speaking  the  language  in 
my  hearing.  Had  Mr.  Borrow  said 
that  the  only  names  of  trades  adopt- 
ed by  the  English  Gipsies  for  sur- 
names were  two  that  he  knew  of,  the 
expression  could  have  been  allowed 
to  pass;  but  when  he  asserts  that 
the  only  two  in  England  are  Cooper 
and  Smith,  we  have  beyond  ques- 
tion an  incontrovertible  proof  of  his 
unreliability  on  the  subject  which  he 
treats.  A  trifle  like  this  indicates 
character.  A  variety  of  similar 
things  prove  that  Mr.  Borrow  can 
be  relied  on  only  when  he  describes 
what  he  has  actually  seen  and  heard ; 
and  even  these  must  sometimes  be 
taken  as  passed  through  his  peculiar 
mind. 

Mr.  Borrow  writes : — 

"  At  the  commencement  of  the  last 
century,  and  for  a  considerable  time  af- 


terwards, there  was  a  loud  cry  raised 
against  the  Gipsy  women  for  stealing 
children.  This  cry,  however,  was  quite 
as  devoid  of  reason  as  the  suspicion  en- 
tertained of  old  against  the  Gipsy  com- 
munities of  harbouring  disguised  priests. 
Gipsy  women,  as  the  writer  had  occa- 
sion to  remark  many  a  long  year  ago, 
have  plenty  of  children  of  their  own, 
and  have  no  wish  to  encumber  them- 
selves with  those  of  other  people  "  (p. 
217). 

Here  is  what  is  said  in  the  His- 
tory of  the  Gipsies  on  that  subject : — 

Among  many  other  mal-practices,  the 
Gipsies  have,  in  all  countries,  been  ac- 
cused of  stealing  children  ;  but  what  be- 
came of  these  kidnapped  infants,  no  one 
appears  to  have  given  any  account,  that 
I  am  aware  of.  To  satisfy  myself  on 
this  trait  of  their  character,  I  inquired 
of  a  Gipsy  the  reasons  which  induced  his 
tribe  to  steal  children.  He  candidly  ac- 
knowledged the  practice,  and  said  that 
the  stolen  children  were  adopted  as 
members  of  the  tribe,  and  instructed  in 
the  language,  and  all  the  mysteries  of 
the  body.  They  became,  he  said,  equally 
hardy,  clever,  and  expert  in  all  the  prac-, 
tices  of  the  fraternity.  The  male  Gip- 
sies were  very  fond  of  marrying  the  stolen 
females.  Some  of  the  kidnappped  chil- 
dren were  made  servants,  or,  rather,  a 
sort  of  slaves  to  the  tribe.  They  con- 
sidered that  the  occasional  introduction  of 
another  race  into  their  own,  and  mixing 
the  Gipsy  blood,  in  that  manner,  invig- 
orated and  strengthened  their  race.  In 
this  manner  would  the  Gipsies  alter  the 
complexion  of  their  race,  by  the  intro- 
duction of  foreign  blood  among  them 
(P-  342). 

The  persecutions  to  which  the  Gipsies 
were  exposed,  merely  for  being  Gipsies, 
which  their  appearance  would  readily 
indicate,  seem  to  have  induced  the  body 
to  intermarry  with  our  race,  so  as  to 
disguise  theirs.  That  would  be  done  by 
receiving  and  adopting  males  of  our 
race,  whom  they  would  marry  to  females 
of  theirs,  who  would  bring  up  the  chil- 
dren of  such  unions  as  members  of  their 
fraternity.  They  also  adopted  the  prac- 
tice to  give  their  race  stamina,  as  well 
as  numbers,  to  contend  with  the  people 
among  whom  they  lived.  The  desire  of 
having  servants  (for  Gipsies  generally 
have  been  too  proud  to  do  menial  work 
for  each  other),  led  to  many  children  be- 
ing kidnapped,  and  reared  among  them  ; 


122 


MR.  BORRO  W  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


many  of  whom,  as  is  customary  with 
Oriental  people,  rose  to  as  high  a  posi- 
tion in  the  tribe  as  any  of  themselves. 
Then  again,  it  was  very  necessary  to  have 
people  of  fair  complexion  among  them, 
to  enable  them  the  more  easily  to  carry 
on  their  operations  upon  the  community, 
as  well  as  to  contribute  to  their  support 
during  times  of  persecution.  Owing  to 
these  causes,  and  the  occasional  occur- 
rence of  white  people  being,  by  more  le- 
gitimate means,  received  into  their  body, 
which  would  be  more  often  the  case  in 
their  palmy  days,  the  half,  at  least,  of 
the  Scottish  Gipsies  are  of  fair  hair  and 
blue  eyes  (Ed.,  p.  9). 

Mr.  Borrow  labours  under  a  very  se- 
rious mistake  wrhen  he  asserts  that 
"  The  unfounded  idea,  that  Gipsies  steal 
children,  to  bring  them  up  as  Gipsies, 
has  been  the  besetting  sin  of  authors, 
who  have  attempted  to  found  works  of 
fiction  on  the  way  of  life  of  this  most 
singular  people."  The  only  argument 
which  he  advances  to  refute  this  belief 
in  regard  to  Gipsies,  which  is  universal, 
is  the  following : — "  They  have  plenty 
of  children  of  their  own,  whom  they  can 
scarcely  support ;  and  they  would  smile 
at  the  idea  of  encumbering  themselves 
with  the  children  of  others."  This  is 
rather  inconsistent  with  his  own  words, 
when  he  says  : — "  I  have  dealt  more  in 
facts  than  theories,  of  which  I  am,  in 
general,  no  friend."  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  children  have  been  stolen  and 
brought  up  as  Gipsies,  and  incorporated 
with  the  tribe  (Ed.,  p.  9).  There  was 
no  occasion  for  such  children  being 
either  "  squalling  infants,"  or  of  such  an 
age  as  was  likely  to  lead  them  to  "  be- 
tray the  Gipsies,"  as  Mr.  Borrow  sup- 
poses would  be -the  case,  when  he  says 
that  Gipsies  have  never  stolen  children, 
to  bring  them  up  as  Gipsies  (Ed.,  p.  342). 

This  is  the  only  continental  writer, 
[Wiessenburch]  that  I  am  aware  of,  who 
mentions  the  circumstance  of  the  Gip- 
sies having  districts  to  themselves,  from 
which  others  of  their  race  were  ex- 
cluded. This  author  also  speaks  of  the 
German  Gipsies  stealing  children.  John 
Bunyan  admits  the  same  practice  in 
England,  when  he  compares  his  feel- 
ings, as  a  sinner,  to  those  of  a  child  car- 
ried off  by  Gipsies.  He  gives  the  Gip- 
sy women  credit  for  this  practice  (Ed., 
p.  80). 

Mr.  Borrow  says  : — 
"  A  yet  more  extraordinary  charge  was, 


likewise,  brought  against  them — of  run- 
ning away  with  wenches.  Now,  the 
idea  of  Gipsy  women  running  away  with 
wenches  !  [A  most  likely  thing  indeed, 
when  the  Spanish  Gipsy  women  have 
been  described  by  him  as  the  greatest 
of  procuresses,  and  the  English  ones  as 
'  living  in  almost  continual  violation  of 
the  laws  intended  for  the  protection  of 
society '  (p.  219.)]  Where  were  they  to 
stow  them  in  the  event  of  running  away 
with  them  ?  [Aye,  where  indeed  ?  Why, 
anywhere  ;  for  if  they  could  run  them, 
they  would  surely  have  no  difficulty  in 
stowing  them.]  And  what  were  they  to 
do  with  them  in  the  event  of  being  able 
to  stow  them  ?  "  (p.  217.)  [Why,  make 
money  by  them.] 

It  is  difficult  to  see  how  this  idea 
of  "  running  away  with  wenches," 
could  have  found  its  way  into  this 
work  of  Mr.  Borrow,  when  he  had 
no  means  of  refuting  it  beyond  the 
funny  remarks  he  makes  on  the 
subject.  The  circumstance  is  high- 
ly characteristic  of  his  erratic 
genius.  He  says  : — "  For  nearly  a 
century  and  a  half  after  the  death 
of  Elizabeth  the  Gipsies  seem  to 
have  been  left  tolerably  to  them- 
selves, for  the  laws  are  almost  silent 
respecting  them"  (p.  216),  for  the 
reason  that  there  was  no  necessity  to 
pass  laws  against  them  while  those 
of  Henry  VIII.  and  Elizabeth  were 
on  the  Statute  Book.  These  were 
sufficiently  severe  and  comprehen- 
sive to  make  others  unnecessary. 
How  they  were  sometimes  put  in 
force  is  illustrated  by  the  execution 
of  thirteen  Gipsies  "  at  one  Suffolk 
assize,"  a  few  years  before  the  resto- 
ration of  Charles  II.*  Mr.  Borrow 
says  that  for  one  hundred  and  fifty 
years  after  the  death  of  Elizabeth, 
"  but  next  to  nothing  is  known  re- 
specting them "  [the  Gipsies]  (p. 
216);  which  is  a  good  reason  why 
he  should  not  have  so  dogmatically 
asserted  that  the  Gipsies  never  har- 
boured disguised  priests  (no  moral 


*  This  appears  to  have  been  the  last 
instance  of  inflicting  the  penalty  of  death 
on  these  unfortunate  people  in  England, 
merely  because  they  were  Gipsies  (p.  92). 


HIS  INCONSISTENCIES  REGARDING  THE  LANGUAGE.        123 


offence),  run  wenches,  or  stole  chil- 
dren. 

The  following  extracts  will  illus- 
trate Mr.  Borrow's  singular  incon- 
sistencies in  regard  to  the  mental 
peculiarities  of  the  Gipsies  when 
speaking  their  language  : — 

Before  considering  this  trait  in  the 
character  of  the  Scottish  Gipsies  [in  re- 
gard to  keeping  their  language  a  secret], 
it  may  interest  the  reader  to  know  that 
the  same  peculiarity  obtains  among  those 
on  the  continent. 

Of  the  Hungarian  Gipsies,  Grellmann 
writes  : — "  It  will  be  recollected,  from 
the  first,  how  great  a  secret  they  make 
of  their  language,  and  how  suspicious 
they  appear  when  any  person  wishes  to 
learn  a  few  words  of  it.  Even  if  the 
Gipsy  is  not  perverse,  he  is  very  inatten- 
tive, and  is  consequently  likely  to  an- 
swer some  other  rather  than  the  true 
Gipsy  word." — Of  the  Hungarian  Gip- 
sies, Bright  says  : — "  No  one,  who  has 
not  had  experience,  can  conceive  the 
difficulty  of  gaining  intelligible  informa- 
tion, from  people  so  rude,  upon  the  sub- 
iject  of  their  language.  If  you  ask  fora 
word,  they  give  you  a  whole  sentence  ; 
and  on  asking  a  second  time,  they  give 
the  sentence  a  totally  different  turn,  or 
introduce  some  figure  altogether  new. 
Thus  it  was  with  our  Gipsy,  who,  at 
length,  tired  of  our  questions,  prayed 
most  piteously  to  be  released  ;  which  we 
granted  him,  only  on  condition  of  his 
returning  in  the  evening." — Of  the 
Spanish  Gipsies,  Mr.  Borrow  writes  : — 
"  It  is  only  by  listening  attentively  to  the 
speech  of  the  Gitanos,  whilst  discours- 
ing among  themselves,  that  an  acquaint- 
ance with  their  dialect  can  be  formed, 
and  by  seizing  upon  all  unknown  words, 
as  they  fall  in  succession  from  their  lips. 
Nothing  can  be  more  useless  and  hope- 
less than  the  attempt  to  obtain  posses- 
sion of  their  vocabulary,  by  inquiring  of 
them  how  particular  objects  and  ideas 
are  styled  in  the  same  ;  for,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  names  of  the  most  com- 
mon things,  they  are  totally  incapable, 
as  a  Spanish  writer  has  observed,  of 
yielding  the  required  information  ;  owing 
to  their  great  ignorance,  the  shortness  of 
their  memories,  or  rather  the  state  of 
bewilderment  to  which  their  minds  are 
brought  by  any  question  which  tends  to 
bring  their  reasoning  faculties  into  ac- 
tion ;  though,  not  unfrequently,  the  very 
words  which  have  been  in  vain  required 


of  them  will,  a  minute  subsequently, 
proceed  inadvertently  from  their 
mouths." — What  has  been  said  by  the 
two  last-named  writers  is  very  wide  of 
the  mark ;  Grellmann,  however,  hits  it 
exactly.  The  Gipsies  have  *  excellent 
memories.  It  is  all  they  have  to  depend 
on.  If  they  had  not  good  memories, 
how  could  they,  at  the  present  day, 
speak  a  word  of  their  language  at  all  ? 
The  difficulty  in  question  is  downright 
shuffling,  and  not  a  want  of  memory  on 
the  part  of  the  Gipsy.  The  present 
chapter  will  throw  some  light  on  the 
subject.  Even  Mr.  Borrow  himselt 
gives  an  ample  refutation  to  his  sweep- 
ing account  of  the  Spanish  Gipsies,  in 
regard  to  their  language  ;  for,  in  another 
part  of  his  work,  he  says  : — ''  I  recited 
the  Appstles'  Creed  to  the  Gipsies,  sen- 
tence by  sentence,  which  they  translated 
as  I  proceeded.  They  exhibited  the 
greatest  eagerness  and  interest  in  their 
unwonted  occupation,  and  frequently 
broke  into  loud  disputes  as  to  the  best 
rendering,  many  being  offered  at  the 
same  time.  I  then  read  the  translation 
aloud,  whereupon  they  raised  a  shout  ot 
exultation,  and  appeared  not  a  little 
proud  of  the  composition."  On  this  oc- 
casion, Mr.  Borrow  evidently  had  the 
Gipsies  in  the  right  humour — that  is,  oft 
their  guard,  excited,  and  much  interest- 
ed in  the  subject.  He  says,  in  another 
place  : — "  The  language  they  speak 
among  themselves,  and  they  are  partic- 
ularly anxious  to  keep  others  in  igno- 
rance of  it."  As  a  general  thing,  they 
seem  to  have  been  bored  by  people  much 
above  them  in  the  scale  of  society  ;  with 
whom  their  natural  politeness,  and  ex- 
pectations of  money  or  other  benefits, 
would  naturally  lead  them  to  do  any- 
thing than  give  them  that  which  is  in- 
born in  their  nature  to  keep  to  them- 
selves (Ed.,  p.  281). 

Besides  the  difficulties  mentioned  in 
the  way  of  getting  any  of  their  language 
from  them,  there  is  a  general  one  that 
arises  from  the  suspicious,  unsettled, 
restless,  fickle  and  volatile  nature  by 
which  they  are  characterized.  It  is  a 
rare  thing  to  get  them  to  speak  consecu- 
tively for  more  than  a  few  minutes  on 
any  subject,  thus  precluding  the  possi- 
bility, in  most  instances,  of  taking  advan- 
tage of  any  favourable  humour  in  which 
they  may  be  found,  in  the  matter  of  their 
ganeral  history — leaving  alone  the  for- 
mal and  serious  procedure  necessary  to 
be  followed  in  regard  to  their  language. 


124 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


If  this  favourable  turn  in  their  disposi- 
tion is  allowed  to  pass,  it  is  rarely  any- 
thing of  that  nature  can  be  got  from 
them  at  that  meeting ;  and  it  is  extreme- 
ly likely  that,  at  any  after  interviews, 
they  will  entirely  evade  the  matter  so 
much  desired  (p.  286). 

Sir  Walter  Scott  seems  to  have  had 
an  intention  of  writing  an  account  of  the 
Gipsies  himself ;  for,  in  a  letter  to  Mur- 
ray, as  given  by  Lockhart,  he  writes  : — 
"  I  have  been  over  head  and  ears  in 
work  this  summer,  or  I  would  have  sent 
the  Gipsies  ;  indeed,  I  was  partly  stopped 
by  finding  it  impossible  to  procure  a  few 
words  of  their  language  "  (Ed.,  p.  25). 

In  regard  to  the  mixture  of  the 
blood,  and  the  destiny  of  the  mixed 
breeds,  and  that  of  the  tribe  gene- 
rally, in  Spain,  the  following  extracts 
are  taken  from  the  History  of  the 
Gipsies,  and  have  reference  to  Mr. 
Borrow's  observations  and  opinions 
on  the  subject : — 

The  effect  of  a  marriage  between  a 
White  and  a  Gipsy,  especially  if  he  or 
she  is  known  to  be  a  Gipsy,  is  such  that 
the  White  instinctively  withdraws  from 
any  connexion  with  his  own  race,  and 
casts  his  lot  with  the  Gipsies.  The 
children  born  of  such  unions  become 
ultra  Gipsies.  A  very  fine  illustration 
of  this  principle  of  half-breed  ultra 
Gipsyism  is  given  by  Mr.  Borrow,  in  his 
Gipsies  in  Spain,  in  the  case  of  an  offi- 
cer in  the  Spanish  army  adopting  a 
young  female  Gipsy  child,  whose  parents 
had  been  executed,  and  educating  and 
marrying  her.  A  son  of  this  marriage, 
who  rose  to  be  a  captain  in  the  service 
of  Donna  Isabel,  hated  the  white  race 
so  intensely,  as,  when  a  child,  to  tell  his 
father  that  he  wished  he  (his^father)  was 
dead.  At  whose  door  must  the  cause 
of  such  a  feeling  be  laid  ?  One  would 
naturally  suppose  that  the  child  would 
have  left,  perhaps  despised,  his  mother's 
people,  and  clung  to  those  whom  the 
world  deemed  respectable.  But  the 
case  was  different.  Suppose  the  mother 
had  not  been  prompted  by  some  of  her 
own  race,  while  growing  up,  and  the 
son,  in  his  turn,  not  prompted  by  the 
mother,  all  that  was  necessary  to  stir  up 
his  hatred  toward  the  white  race,  was 
simply  to  know  who  he  was  (Ed.,  p.  372). 

This  Spanish  Gipsy  is  reported  by 
Mr.  Borrow  to  have  said  : — "She,  how- 


ever, remembered  her  blood,  and  hated 
my  father,  and  taught  me  to  hate  him 
likewise.  When  a  boy,  I  used  to  stroll 
about  the  plain  that  I  might  not  see  my 
father  ;  and  my  father  would  follow  me, 
and  beg  me  to  look  upon  him,  and 
would  ask  me  what  I  wanted ;  and  I 
would  reply,  '  Father,  the  only  thing  I 
want  is  to  see  you  dead !' " — This  is 
certainly  an  extreme  instance  of  the  re- 
sult of  the  prejudice  against  the  Gipsy 
race ;  and  no  opinion  can  be  formed  upon 
it,  without  knowing  some  of  the  circum- 
stances connected  with  the  feelings  of 
the  father,  or  of  his  relations,  toward 
the  mother  and  the  Gipsy  race  gene- 
rally. This  Gipsy  woman  seems  to 
have  been  well  brought  up  by  her  pro- 
tector and  husband  ;  for  she  taught  her 
child  Gipsy  from  a  MS.,  and  procured 
a  teacher  to  instruct  him  in  Latin. 
There  are  many  reflections  to  be  drawn 
from  the  circumstances  connected  with 
this  Spanish  Gipsy  family,  but  they  do 
not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  Mr.  Bor- 
row *  (Ed.,  p.  373). 

This  brings  me  to  an  issue  with  Mr. 
Borrow.  Speaking  of  the  destination 
of  the  Spanish  Gipsies,  he  says :  "If 
the  Gitanos  are  abandoned  to  them- 
selves, by  which  we  mean,  no  arbitrary 
laws  are  again  enacted  .for  their  ex- 
tinction, the  sect  will  eventually  cease 
to  be,  and  its  members  become  con- 
founded with  the  residue  of  the  popula- 
tion." I  can  well  understand  that  such 
procedure,  on  the  part  of  the  Spanish 
Government,  was  calculated  to  soften 
the  ferocious  disposition  of  the  Gipsies  ; 
but  did  it  bring  them  a  point  nearer  to 


*  Of  the  mixed  Spanish  Gipsy,  to  whom 
I  have  alluded,  Mr.  Borrow  says,  that "  he 
had  flaxen  hair;  his  eyes  small,  and  like 
ferrets,  red  and  fiery  ;  and  his  complex- 
ion like  a  brick,  or  dull  red,  chequered 
with  spots  of  purple."  This  description, 
with,  perhaps,  the  exception  of  the  red 
eyes,  and  spots  of  purple,  is  quite  in 
keeping  with  that  of  many  of  the  mixed 
Gipsies.  The  race  seems  even  to  have 
given  a  preference  to  fair  or  red  hair,  in 
the  case  of  such  children  and  grown-up 
natives  as  they  have  adopted  into  their 
body  (Ed.,  p.  377). 

To  thoroughly  understand  how  a  Gipsy, 
with  fair  hair  and  blue  eyes,  can  be  as 
much  a  Gipsy  as  one  with  black,  may  be 
termed  "  passing  the  pons  asinorum  of 
the  Gipsy  question."  Once  over  the 
bridge,  and  there  are  no  difficulties  to  be 
encountered  on  the  journey,  unless  it  be 
to  understand  that  a  Gipsy  can  be  a  Gipsy 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SPANISH  GIPSIES. 


12$ 


an  amalgamation  with  the  people  than 
before  ?  Mr.  Borrow  continues  : — "  The 
position  which  they  occupy  is  the  low- 
est. .  .  .  The  outcast  of  the  prison 
and  the  presidio,  who  calls  himself  Span- 
iard, would  feel  insulted  by  being  term- 
ed Gitano,  and  would  thank  God  that 
he  is  not."  He  continues  : — "  It  is,  of 
course,  by  intermarriage,  alone,  that  the 
two  races  will  ever  commingle  ;  and  be- 
fore that  event  is  brought  about,  much 
modification  must  take  place  amongst 
the  Gitanos,  in  their  manners,  in  their 
habits,  in  their  affections  and  their  dis- 
likes, and  perhaps  even  in  their  physi- 
cal peculiarities  [yet  'no  washing,'  as 
Mr.  Borrow  approvingly  quotes,  '  will 
turn  the  Gipsy  white  '] ;  much  must  be 
forgotten  on  both  sides,  and  everything 
is  forgotten  in  course  of  time." 

Mr.  Borrow  has  not  sufficiently  ex- 
amined into  Spanish  Gipsyism  to  pass  a 
reliable  opinion  upon  it.  He  says  : — "One 
thing  is  certain  in  the  history  of  the  Gi- 
tanos, that  the  sect  flourished  and  in- 
creased, so  long  as  the  law  recommend- 
ed and  enjoined  measures  the  most 
harsh  and  severe  for  its  suppression. 
....  The  caste  pf  the  Gitanos  still 
exists,  but  is  neither  so  extensive,  nor 
so  formidable,  as  a  century  ago,  when 
the  law,  in  denouncing  Gitanismo,  pro- 
posed to  the  Gitanos  the  alternatives  of 
death  for  persisting  in  their  profession, 
or  slavery  for  abandoning  it."  These 
are  very  singular  alternatives.  The  lat- 
ter is  certainly  not  to  be  found  in  any  of 
the  Spanish  laws  quoted  by  Mr.  Borrow. 
I  am  at  a  loss  to  perceive  the  point  of 
his  reasoning.  There  can  be  no  diffi- 


without  living  in  a  tent  or  being  a  rogue 
(Ed.,  p.  383). 

Grellmann  evidently  alludes  to  Gipsies 
of  mixed  blood,  when  he  writes  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner  :  —  "  Experience  shows 
that  the  dark  colour  of  the  Gipsies,  which 
is  continued  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion, is  more  the  effect  of  education  and 
manner  of  life  than  descent.  Among  those 
who  profess  music  in  Hungary,  or  serve 
in  the  imperial  army,  where  they  have 
learned  to  pay  more  attention  to  order 
and  cleanliness,  there  are  many  to  be 
found  whose  extraction  is  not  at  all  dis- 
cernible in  their  colour."  For  my  part, 
1  cannot  say  that  such  language  is  appli- 
cable to  full-blood  Gipsies.  Still,  the 
change  from  tented  to  settled  and  tidy 
Gipsydom  is  apt  to  show  its  effects  in 
modifying  the  complexion  of  such  Gip- 
sies, and  to  a  much  greater  degree  in 
their  descendants  (Ed.,  p.  377). 


culty  in  believing  that  Gipsies  would 
rather  increase  in  a  state  of  peace,  than 
if  they  were  hunted  from  place  to  place, 
like  wild  beasts  ;  and  consequently,  hav- 
ing renounced  their  former  mode  of 
life,  they  would,  in  Mr.  Borrow's  own 
words,  "  cease  to  play  a  distinct  part  in 
the  history  of  Spain,  and  the  law  would 
no  longer  speak  of  them  as  a  distinct 
people."  And  the  same  might,  to  a 
certain  extent,  be  said  of  the  Spanish 
people.  Mr.  Borrow  again  says  : — "  That 
the  Gitanos  are  not  so  numerous  as  in 
former  times,  witness  those  barrios,  in 
various  towns,  still  denominated  Gita- 
nerias,  but  from  whence  the  Gitanos 
have  disappeared,  even  like  the  Moors 
from  the  Morerias"  But  Mr.  Borrow 
himself,  in  the  same  work,  gives  a  good 
reason  for  the  disappearance  of  the  Gip- 
sies from  these  Gitanerias  ;  for  he  says  : 
— "  The  Gitanerias  were  soon  consider- 
ed as  public  nuisances,  on  which  account 
the  Gitanos  were  forbidden  to  live  toge- 
ther in  particular  parts  of  the  town,  to 
hold  meetings,  and  even  to  intermarry 
with  each  other."  If  the  disappearance 
of  the  Gipsies  from  Spain  was  like  that 
of  the  Moors,  it  would  appear  that  they 
had  left,  or  been  expelled  from,  the  coun- 
try; a  theory  which  Mr.  Borrow  does 
not  advance.  The  Gipsies,  to  a  certain 
extent,  may  have  left  these  barrios,  or 
been  expelled  from  them,  and  settled  as 
tradesmen,  mechanics,  and  what  not,  in 
other  parts  of  the  same  or  other  towns, 
so  as  to  be  in  a  position  the  more  able 
to  get  on  in  the  world.  Still,  many 
of  them  are  in  the  colonies.  In  Cuba 
there  are  many,  as  soldiers  and  musi- 
cians, dealers  in  mules  and  red  pepper, 
which  businesses  they  almost  monopo- 
lize, and  jobbers  and  dealers  in  various 
wares  ;  and  doubtless  there  are  some  of 
them  innkeepers,  and  others  following 
other  occupations.  In  Mexico  there  are 
not  a  few.  I  know  of  a  Gitano  who  has 
a  fine  wholesale  and  retail  cigar  store  in 
Virginia.* 

Mr.  Borrow  concludes,  in  regard  to 

*  Mr.  Borrow  mentions  in  the  twenty- 
second  chapter  of  the  Bible  in  Spain,  hav- 
ing met  several  cavalry  soldiers  from 
Granada,  Gipsies  incog.,  who  were  sur- 
prised at  being  discovered  to  be  Gipsies, 
They  had  been  impressed,  but  carried  on 
a  trade  in  horses,  in  league  with  the  cap- 
tain of  their  company.  They  said  : — "  We 
have  been  to  the  wars,  but  not  to  fight  ; 
we  left  that  to  the  Busne.  We  have  kept 
together,  and  like  true  Galore,  have  stood 


126 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


the  Spanish  Gipsies,  thus  : — "  We  have 
already  expressed  our  belief  that  the 
caste  has  diminished  of  latter  years ; 
whether  this  diminution  was  the  result 
of  one  or  many  causes  combined  ;  of  a 
partial  change  of  habits,  of  pestilence 
or  sickness,  of  war  or  famine,  or  of  a 
freer  intercourse  with  the  Spanish 
population,  we  have  no  means  of  de- 
termining, and  shall  abstain  from  offer- 
ing conjectures  on  the  subject."  In 
this  way  does  he  leave  the  question  just 
where  he  found  it.  Is  there  any  reason 
to  doubt  that  Gipsydom  is  essentially 
the  same  in  Spain  as  in  Great  Britain  ; 
or  that  its  future  will  be  guided  by  any 
other  principles  than  those  which  regu- 
late that  of  the  British  Gipsies  ?  Indeed, 
I  am  astonished  that  Mr.  Borrow  should 
advance  the  idea  that  Gipsies  should 
decrease  by  "  changing  their  habits ;" 
they  might  not  increase  so  fast  in  a  set- 
tled life,  as  when  more  exposed  to  the 
air,  and  not  molested  by  the  Spanish 
Government.  I  am  no  less  astonished 
that  he  should  think  they  would  decrease 
by  "  a  freer  intercourse  with  the  Spanish 
population ;"  when,  in  fact,  such  mix- 
tures are  well  known  to  go  with  the  Gip- 
sies ;  the  mixture  being,  in  the  estimation 
of  the  British  Gipsies,  calculated  to 
strengthen  and  invigorate  the  race  it- 
self. Had  Mr.  Borrow  kept  in  mind  the 
case  of  the  half-blood  Gipsy  captain,  he 
could  have  had  no  difficulty  in  learning 
what  became  of  mixed  Gipsies.* 


back  to  back.    We  have  made  money  in 
the  wars  "  (Ed.,  p.  392). 

It  would  seem  that  the  law  in  Spain,  in 
regard  to  the  Gipsies,  stands  pretty  much 
where  it  did — that  is,  the  people  are,  in  a 
sense,  tolerated,  but  that  the  use  of  their 
language  is  prohibited,  as  may  be.gather- 
ed  from  an  incident  mentioned  in  the 
ninth  chapter  of  the  Bible  in  Spain,  by  Mr. 
Borrow"  (Ed.,  p.  395). 

*  Mr.  Borrow  surely  cannot  mean  that 
a  Gipsy  ceases  to  be  a  Gipsy  when  he  set- 
tles down,  and  "turns  over  a  new  leaf;" 
and  that  this  "  change  of  habits  "  changes 
his  descent,  blood,  appearance,  language 
and  nationality!  What,  then,  does  he 
mean,  when  he  says,  that  the  Spanish 
Gipsies  have  decreased  by  "  a  partial 
change  of  habits  ?  "  And  does  an  infusion 
of  Spanish  blood,  implied  in  a  "  freer  in- 
tercourse with  the  Spanish  population," 
lead  to  the  Gipsy  element  being  wiped 
out ;  or  does  it  lead  to  the  Spanish  feel- 
ing being  lost  in  Gipsydom  ?  Which  is 
the  element  to  be  operated  upon — the 


It  doubtless  holds  in  Spain,  as  in 
Great  Britain,  that  as  the  Gipsy  enters 
into  settled  life,  and  engages  in  a  re- 
spectable calling,  he  hides  his  descent, 
and  even  mixes  his'  blood  with  that  of 
the  country,  and  becomes  ashamed  of 
the  name  before  the  public ;  but  is  as 
much,  at  heart,  a  Gipsy,  as  any  others 
of  his  race.  And  this  theory  is  borne 
out  by  Mr.  Borrow  himself,  when  he 
speaks  of  "  the  unwillingness  of  the 
Spanish  Gipsies  to  utter,  when  speaking 
of  themselves,  the  detested  expression 
Gitano  ;  a  word  which  seldom  escapes 
their  mouths."  We  might  therefore 
conclude,  that  the  Spanish  Gipsies,  with 
the  exception  of  the  more  original  and 
bigoted  stock,  would  hide  their  na- 
tionality from  the  common  Spaniards, 
and  so  escape  their  notice.  It  is  not  at 
all  likely  that  the  half-pay  Gipsy  cap- 
tain would  mention  to  the  public  that  he 
was  a  Gipsy,  although  he  admitted  it  to 
Mr.  Borrow,  under  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances in  which  he  met  him.  My 
Spanish  acquaintance  informs  me  that 
the  Gitanos  generally  hide  their  na- 
tionality from  the  rest  of  the  world. 

Such  a  case  is  evidently  told  by  Mr. 
Borrow,  in  the  vagabond  Gipsy,  An- 
tonio, at  Badajoz,  who  termed  a  rich 
Gipsy,  living  in  the  same  town,  a  hog, 
because  he  evidently  would  not  counte- 
nance him.  Antonio  may  possibly  have 
been  kicked  out  of  his  house,  in  attempt- 
ing to  enter  it.  He  accused  him  of 
having  married  a  Spaniard,  and  of  fain 
attempting  to  pass  himself  for  a  Span- 
iard. As  regards  the  wife,  she  might 
have  been  a  Gipsy  with  very  little  of  "  the 
blood "  in  her  veins  ;  or  a  Spaniard 
reared  by  Gipsies ;  or  an  ordinary 
Spanish  maiden,  to  whom  the  Gipsy 
would  teach  his  language,  as  some- 
times happens  among  the  English 


Spanish  or  the  Gipsy?  Which  is  the 
leaven?  The  Spanish  element  is  the  pas- 
sive, the  Gipsy  the  active.  As  a  question 
of  philosophy,  the  most  simple  of  com- 
prehension, and,  above  all,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  foreign  element  introduced,  in 
detail,  into  the  body  of  Gipsydom,  goes 
with  that  body,  and,  in  feeling,  becomes 
incorporated  with  it,  although,  in  physi- 
cal appearance,  it  changes  the  Gipsy  race, 
so  that  it  becomes  "  confounded  with  the 
residue  of  the  population,"  but  remains 
Gipsy,  as  before.  A  Spanish  Gipsy  is  a 
Spaniard  as  he  stands,  and  it  would  be 
hard  to  say  what  we  should  ask  him  to 
do,  to  become  more  a  Spaniard  than  he  is 
already  (Ed.,  p.  390). 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  SPANISH  GIPSIES. 


127 


Gipsies.  His  wishing  to  pass  for  a 
Spaniard  had  nothing  to  do  with  his  be- 
ing, but  not  wishing  to  be  known  as,  a 
Gipsy.  The  same  is  done  by  almost  all 
our  Scottish  Gipsies.  In  England,  those 
who  do  not  follow  the  tent— I  mean  the 
more  mixed  and  better  class — are  even 
afraid  of  each  other.  "  Afraid  of  what  ?" 
said  I,  to  such  an  English  Gipsy; 
"ashamed  of  being  Gipsies?"  "No, 
sir "  (with  great  emphasis) ;  "  not 
ashamed  of  being  Gipsies,  but  of  being 
known  to  other  people  as  Gipsies!'  "  A 
world  of  difference,"  I  replied.  What 
does  the  world  hold  to  be  a  Gipsy,  and 
what  does  it  hold  to  be  \hefeelmgs  of  a 
man  ?  If  we  consider  these  two  ques- 
tions, we  can  have  little  difficulty  in 
understanding  the  wish  of  such  Gipsies 
to  disguise  themselves.  It  is  in  this 
way,  and  in  the  mixing  of  the  blood, 
that  this  so-called  "  dying  out  of  the 
Gipsies  "  is  to  be  accounted  for. — If  Mr. 
Borrow  found  in  Spain  a  half-pay  cap- 
tain in  the  service  of  Donna  Isabel,  with 
flaxen  hair,  a  thorough  Gipsy,  who 
spoke  Gipsy  and  Latin  with  great 
fluency,  and  his  cousin,  Jara,  in  all  pro- 
bability another  Gipsy,  what  difficulty 
can  there  be  in  believing  that  the  "  for- 
eign tinkers,"  or  tinkers  of  any  kind,  now 
to  be  met  with  in  Spain,  are,  like  the 
same  class  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland, 
Gipsies  of  mixed  blood?  Indeed,  the 
young  Spaniard,  to  whom  I  have  alluded, 
informs  me  that  the  Gipsies  in  Spain  are 
very  much  mixed.  Mr.  Borrow  himself 
admits  that  the  Gipsy  blood  in  Spain  has 
been  mixed  ;  for,  in  speaking  of  the  old 
Gipsy  counts,  he  says : — "  It  was  the 
counts  who  determined  what  individ- 
uals were  to  .be  admitted  into  the 
fellowship  and  privileges  of  the  Gitanos. 
.  .  .  .  They  [the  Gipsies]  were  not 
to  teach  the  language  to  any  but  those 
who,  by  birth  or  inauguration,  belonged 
to  that  sect."  And  he  gives  a  case  in 
point,  in  the  bookseller  of  Logrono,  who 
was  married  to  the  only  daughter  of  a 
Gitano  count ;  upon  whose  death,  the 
daughter  and  son-in-law  succeeded  to 
the  authority  which  he  had  exercised  in 
the  tribe.  If  the  Gipsies  in  Spain  were 
not  mixed  in  point  of  blood,  why  should 
they  have  taken  Mr.  Borrow  for  a 
Gipsy,  as  he  said  they  did  ?  The  perse- 
cutions to  which  the  race  in  Spain  were 
subjected  were  calculated  to  lead  to  a 
mixture  of  the  blood,  as  in  Scotland,  for 
reasons  given  in  the  Preface ;  but  per- 
haps not  to  the  same  extent;  as  the 


Spanish  Acts  seem  to  have  given  the 
tribe  an  opportunity  of  escape,  under 
the  condition  of  settling,  etc.,  which 
would  probably  be  complied  with  nomi- 
nally, for  the  time  being  ;  while  the  face 
of  part  of  the  country  would  afford  a 
refuge  till  the  storm  had  blown  over  * 
(Ed.,  pp.  385-397). 

I  have  said  a  great  deal  in  the 
History  of  the  Gipsies  about  the 
blood  getting  mixed,  and  how  it 
maintains  and  perpetuates  its  iden- 
tity in  that  state.  The  following  are 
extracts  bearing  on  the  subject  gen- 
erally : — 

Even  in  England,  those  that  pass  for 
Gipsies  are  few  in  number,  compared  to 


*  The  popular  idea  of  a  Gipsy,  at  the 
present  day,  is  very  erroneous  as  to  its 
extent  and  meaning.  The  nomadic  Gip- 
sies constitute  but  a  portion  of  the  race, 
and  a  very  small  portion  of  it.  A  grad- 
ual change  has  come  over  their  outward 
condition  all  over  Europe,  from  about  the 
commencement  of  the  first  American  war, 
but  from  what  time  previous  to  that, 
we  have  no  certain  data  from  which  to 
form  an  opinion.  In  the  whole  of  Great 
Britain  they  have  been  very  much  mixed 
with  the  native  blood  of  the  country,  but 
nowhere,  I  believe,  so  much  so  as  in 
Scotland.  There  is  every  reason  to  sup- 
pose that  the  same  mixture  has  taken 
place  in  Europe  generally,  although  its 
effects  are  not  so  observable  in  the  South- 
ern countries — from  the  circumstance  of 
the  people  there  being,  for  the  most  part, 
of  dark  hair  and  complexion — as  in  those 
lying  further  toward  the  North.  But  this 
circumstance  would,  to  a  certain  extent, 
prevent  the  mixture  which  has  taken 
place  in  countries  the  inhabitants  of 
which  have  fair  hair  and  complexions 
(Ed.,  p.  8). 

In  Great  Britain,  the  Gipsies  are  enti- 
tled, in  one  respect  at  least,  to  be  called 
Englishmen,  Scotchmen,  or  Irishmen  ; 
for  their  general  ideas  as  men,  as  distin- 
guished from  their  being  Gipsies,  and 
their  language,  indicate  them,  at  once,  to 
be  such,  nearly  as  much  as  the  common 
natives  of  these  countries.  A  half  or 
mixed  breed  might  more  especially  be 
termed  .or  pass  for  a  native  ;  so  that,  by 
clinging  to  the  Gipsies,  and  hiding  his 
Gipsy  descent  and  affiliation  from  the  na- 
tive race,  he  would  lose  nothing  of  the 
outward  character  of  an  ordinary  inhabit- 
ant ;  while  any  benefit  arising  from  his 
being  a  Gipsy  would,  at  the  same  time, 
be  enjoyed  by  him  (Ed.,  p.  372). 


128 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


the  mixed  Gipsies,  following  various  oc- 
cupations ;  for  a  large  part  of  the  Gip- 
sy blood  in  England  has,  as  it  were, 
been  spread  over  a  large  surface  of  the 
White.  In  Scotland  it  is  almost  alto- 
gether so  (Ed.,  p.  395). — I  may,  indeed, 
venture  to  assert  that  there  is  not  a  full- 
blooded  Gipsy  in  Scotland ;  and  most 
positively  that,  in  England,  where  the 
race  is  held  to  be  so  pure,  all  that  can  be 
said  of  s-ome  families  is  that  they  have 
not  been  crossed,  as  far  as  is  known  ; 
but  that,  with  these  exceptions,  the  body 
is  much  mixed  ;  "  dreadfully  mixed  " 
is  the  Gipsies'  description,  as  in  many 
instances  my  own  eyes  have  witnessed 
(Ed.,  p.  374). 

Among  the  English  Gipsies,  fair- 
haired  ones  are  looked  upon  by  the 
purer  sort,  or  even  by  those  taking  after 
the  Gipsy,  as  "  small  potatoes."  The 
consequence  is,  they  have  to  make  up 
for  their  want  of  blood,  by  smartness, 
knowledge  of  the  language,  or  some- 
thing that  will  go  to  balance  the  defici- 
ency of  blood.  They  generally  lay  claim 
to  the  intellect,  while  they  yield  the 
blood  to  the  others.  A  full  or  nearly 
full-blood  young  English  Gipsy  looks 
upon  herself  with  all  the  pride  of  a  lit- 
tle duchess,  while  in  the  company  of 
young  male  mixed  Gipsies.  A  mixed 
Gipsy  may  reasonably  be  assumed  to 
be  more  intelligent  than  one  of  the  old 
stock,  were  it  only  for  this  reason,  that 
the  mixture  softens  down  the  natural 
conceit  and  bigotry  of  the  Gipsy  ;  while, 
as  regards  his  personal  appearance,  it 
puts  him  in  a  more  improvable  position.* 
Still,  a  full-blood  Gipsy  looks  up  to  a 

*  We  naturally  ask,  what  effect  has 
this  difference  in  appearance  upon  two 
such  members  of  one  family — the  one  with 
European,  the  other  with  Gipsy  features 
and  colour?  and  the  answer  is  this  : — The 
first  will  hide  the  fact  of  his  being  a  Gip- 
sy from  strangers  ;  indeed,  he  is  ashamed 
to  let  it  be  known  that  he  is  a  Gipsy  ;  and 
he  is  afraid  that  people,  not  knowing  how 
it  came  about,  would  laugh  at  him. 
"  What !  "  they  would  ask,  "you  a  Gipsy  ? 
The  idea  is  absurd."  Besides,  it  facili- 
tates his  getting  on  in  the  world,  to  pre- 
vent its  being  known  that  he  is  a  Gipsy. 
The  other  member  cannot  den)'-  that  he 
is  a  Gipsy,  because  anyone  can  see  it. 
Such  are  the  Gipsies  who  are  more  apt 
to  cling  to  the  tent,  or  the  more  original 
ways  of  the  old  stock.  They  are  very 
proud  of  their  appearance  ;  but  it  is  a 
pride  accompanied  with  disadvantages 
and  even  pain.  For,  after  all,  the  beauty 


mixed  Gipsy,  if  he  is  anything  of 
a  superior  man,  and  freely  acknow- 
ledges the  blood.  Indeed,  the  two 
kinds  will  readily  marry,  if  circumstan- 
ces bring  them  together.  To  a  couple 
of  such  Gipsies  I  said  : — "  What  differ- 
ence does  it  make,  if  the  person  has  the 
blood,  and  has  his  heart  in  the  right 
place?"  "That's  the  idea;  that's  ex- 
actly the  idea,"  they  both  replied  (Ed., 
p.  382). 

Various  of  the  characters  mentioned 
in  Mr.  Borrow's  Lavengro  and  Romany 
Rye  are,  beyond  doubt,  Gipsies.  Old 
Fulcher  is  termed,  in  a  derisive  man- 
ner, by  Ursula,  "  a  gorgio  and  basket- 
maker."  She  is  one  of  the  Hernes ; 
a  family  which  gorgio  and  basket-maker 
Gipsies  describe  as  "an  ignorant  and 
conceited  set,  who  think  nothing  of 
other  Gipsies,  owing  to  the  quality  and 
quantity  of  their  own  blood."  This  is 
the  manner  in  which  the  more  original 
and  pure  and  the  other  kind  of  English 
Gipsies  frequently  talk  of  each  other. 
The  latter  will  deny  that  they  are  Gip- 
sies, at  least  hide  it  from  the  world  ; 
and,  like  the  same  kind  of  Scottish  Gip- 
sies, speak  of  the  others,  exclusively,  as 
Gipsies.  I  am  acquainted  with  a  fair- 
haired  English  Gipsy,  whose  wife,  now 
dead,  was  a  half-breed.  "  But  I  am 
not  a  Gipsy,"  said  he  to  me,  very  ab- 
ruptly, before  I  had  said  anything  that 
could  have  induced  him  to  think  that  I 
took  him  for  one.  He  spoke  Gipsy, 
like  the  others.  I  soon  caught  him  trip- 
ping ;  for,  in  speaking  of  the  size  of 
Gipsy  families,  he  slipped  his  foot,  and 
said,  "  For  example,  there  is  our  family  ; 


and  pleasure  in  being  a  Gipsy  is  to  have 
the  other  cast  of  features  and  colour  ;  he 
has  as  much  of  the  blood  and  language 
as  the  other,  while  he  can  go  into  any 
kind  of  company — a  sort  of  Jack-the- 
Giant-Killer  in  his  invisible  coat.  The 
nearer  the  Gipsy  comes  to  the  original 
colour  of  his  race,  the  less  chance  is  there 
of  improving  him.  He  knows  what  he  is 
like  ;  and  well  does  he  know  the  feeling 
that  people  entertain  for  him.  In  fact,  he 
feels  that  there  is  no  use  in  being  any- 
thing but  what  people  call  a  Gipsy.  But 
it  is  different  with  those  of  European 
countenance  and  colour,  or  when  these 
have  been  modified  or  diluted  by  a  mix- 
ture of  white  blood.  They  can,  then,  en- 
ter upon  any  sphere  of  employment  to 
which  they  have  a  mind,  and  their  per- 
sonal advantages  and  outward  circum- 
stances will  admit  of  (Ed.,  p.  3^2). 


ENGLISH  AND  IRISH  MIXED  GIPSIES. 


129 


there  were  (so  many)  of  us."  There 
is  another  Gipsy,  a  neighbour,  who  passes 
his  wife  off  to  the  public  as  an  Irish  wo- 
man, while  she  is  a  fair-haired  Irish 
Gipsy.  Both,  in  short,  played  upon  the 
\vord  Gipsy  ;  for,  as  regards  fullness  of 
blood,  they  really  were  not  Gipsies  (Ed., 
p.  509). — In  England  are  to  be  found 
Gipsies  of  many  occupations — horse- 
dealers,  livery-stable  keepers,  public- 
house  keepers,  sometimes  grocers  and 
linen-drapers  ;  indeed,  almost  every  oc- 
cupation from  these  downwards.  I  can 
readily  enough  believe  an  English  Gipsy, 
when  he  tells  me  that  he  knows*  of  an  En- 
glish squire  a  Gipsy.  To  have  an  En- 
glish squire  a  Gipsy,  might  have  come 
about  even  in  this  way :  Imagine  a  rol- 
licking or  eccentric  English  squire  tak- 
ing up  with,  and  marrying,  say,  a  pretty 
mixed  Gipsy  bar  or  lady's  maid,  and  the 
children  would  be  brought  up  Gipsies, 
for  certainty. — There  are  two  Gipsies, 

of  the  name  of  B ,   farmers  upon 

the  estate  of  Lord  Lister,  near  Massing- 
ham,  in  the  county  of  Norfolk.  They 
are  described  as  good-sized,  handsome 
men,  and  swarthy,  with  long  black  hair, 
combed  over  their  shoulders.  They 
dress  in  the 'old  Gipsy  stylish  fashion, 
with  a  green  cut-away,  or  Newmarket, 
coat,  yellow  leather  breeches,  buttoned 
at  the  knee,  and  top-boots,  with  a  Gipsy 
hat,  ruffled  breast,  and  turn-down  col- 
lar. They  occupy  the  position  of  any 
natives  in  society  ;  attend  church,  take 
an  interest  in  parish  matters,  dine  with 
his  lordship's  other  tenants,  and  com- 
pete for  prizes  at  the  agricultural  shows. 
They  are  proud  of  being  Gipsies.  I 
have  also  been  told  that  there  are  Gip- 
sies in  the  county  of  Kent,  who  have 
hop  farms  and  dairies  (Ed.,  p.  509). 

The  following  extracts  are  de- 
scriptive of  the  Irish  Gipsies  to  be 
found  in  the  British  Islands  and  the 
United  States  of  America  : — 

Gipsies  have  informed  me  that  Ire- 
land contains  a  great  many  of  the  tribe  ; 
many  of  whom  are  now  rinding  their 
way  into  Scotland  (p.  93).— The  Gipsies 
in  Scotland  consider  themselves  to  be 
of  the  same  stock  as  those  in  England 
•  and  Ireland,  for  they  are  all  acquainted 
with  the  same  speech.  They  afford  as- 
sistance to  one  another,  whenever  they 
happen  to  meet.  The  Yellowing  facts 
will  at  least  show  that  the  Scottish  and 
Irish  Gipsies  are  one  and  the  same  peo- 
ple (p.  324).— These  facts  prove  that  the 
9 


Irish  Gipsies  have  the  same  language  as 
those  in  Scotland.  The  English  Gipsy  is 
substantially  the  same.  There  are  a  great 
many  Irish  Gipsies  travelling  in  Scot- 
land, of  whom  I  will  again  speak,  in 
the  following  chapter.  They  are  not 
easily  distinguished  from  common  Irish 
peasants,  except  that  they  are  generally 
employed  in  some  sort  of  traffic,  such 
as  hawking  earthen-ware,  trinkets,  and 
various  other  trifles,  through  the  coun- 
try (p.  329). — It  is  only  about  twenty- 
five  years  since  the  Irish  Gipsies,  in 
bands,  made  their  appearance  in  Scot- 
land. Many  severe  conflicts  they  had 
with  our  Scottish  tribes,  before  they  ob- 
tained a  footing  in  the  country.  But 
there  is  a  new  swarm  of  Irish  Gipsies  at 
present  scattered,  in  bands,  over  Scot- 
land, all  acquainted  with  the  Gipsy 
language.  They  are  a  set  of  the  most 
wretched  creatures  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  (p.  356). — But  there  are  Irish  Gip- 
sies of  a  class  much  superior  to  the 
above,  in  Scotland.  In  1836,  a  very  re- 
spectable and  wealthy  master-trades- 
man informed  me  that  the  whole  of  the 
individuals  employed  in  his  manufactory; 
in  Edinburgh,  were  Irish  Gipsies  (j>. 
358). 

This  invasion  of  Scotland  by  Irish 
Gipsies  has,  of  late  years,  greatly  alter- 
ed the  condition  of  the  nomadic  Scot- 
tish tribes  ;  for  this  reason,  that  as 
Scotland,  no  less  than  any  other  coun- 
try, can  support  only  a  certain  number 
of  such  people  who  "  live  on  the 
roads,"  so  many  of  the  Scottish  Gipsies 
have  been  forced  to  betake  themselves 
to  other  modes  of  making  a  living.  To 
such  an  extent  has  this  been  the  case, 
that  Gipsies,  speaking  the  Scottish  dia- 
lect, are  in  some  districts  comparatively 
rarely  to  be  met  with,  where  they  were 
formerly  numerous.  The  same  cause 
may  even  lead  to  the  extinction  of  the 
Scottish  Gipsies  as  wanderers ;  but  as 
the  descendants  of  the  Irish  Gipsies 
will  acquire  the  Scottish  vernacular  in 
the  second  generation  (a  remarkably 
short  period  among  the  Gipsies),  what 
will  then  pass  for  Scottish  Gipsies  will 
be  Irish  by  descent.  The  Irish  Gipsies 
are  allowed,  by  their  English  brethren,  to 
speak  good  Gipsy,  but  with  a  broad  and 
vulgar  accent ;  so  that  the  language  in 
Scotland  will  have  a  still  better  chance 
of  being  preserved. — England  has  like- 
wise been  invaded  by  these  Irish  swarms. 
The  English  Gipsies  complain  bitterly 
of  them.  "They  have  no  law  among 


130 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


them,"  they  say;  ''they  have  fairly  de- 
stroyed Scotland  as  a  country  to  travel 
in  ;  if  they  get  a  loan  of  anything  from 
the  country-people,  to  wrap  themselves 
in,  in  the  barn,  at  night,  they  will  de- 
camp with  it  in  the  morning.  They 
have  brought  a  disgrace  upon  the  very 
name  of  Gipsy,  in  Scotland,  and  are 
heartily  disliked  by  both  English  and 
Scotch."  "  There  is  a  family  of  Irish 
Gipsies  living  across  the  road  there, 
whom  I  would  not  be  seen  speaking  to," 
said  a  superior  English  Gipsy  ;  "  I  hate 
a  Jew,  and  I  dislike  an  Irish  Gipsy."  But 
English  and  Scottish  Gipsies  pull  well 
together ;  and  are  on  very  friendly  terms 
in  America,  and  frequently  visit  each 
other.  The  English  sympathize  with 
the  Scottish,  under  the  wrongs  they 
have  experienced  at  the  hands  of 
the  Irish,  as  well  as  on  account 
of  the  persecutions  they  experi- 
enced in  Scotland,  so  long  after  such 
had  ceased  in  England. — Twenty-five 
years  ago,  there  were  many  Gipsies  to 
be  found  between  Londonderry  and  Bel- 
fast, following  the  style  of  life  described 
under  the  chapter  of  Tweeddale  and 
Clydesdale  Gipsies.  Their  names  were 
Docherty,  McCurdy,  McCloskey,  Mc- 
Guire,  McKay,  Holmes,  Dinsmore,  Mor- 
row, Allan,  Stewart,  Lindsay,  Cochrane, 
and  Williamson.  Some  of  these  seem 
to  have  migrated  from  Scotland  and  the 
North  of  England. — In  England,  some 
of  the  Irish  Gipsies  send  their  children 
to  learn  trades.  There  are  many  of 
such  Irish  mechanic  Gipsies  in  America. 
A  short  time  ago,  a  company  of  them 
landed  in  New  York,  and  proceeded  on 
to  Chicago.  Their  occupations,  among 
others,  were  those  of  hatters  and  tailors 
(Ed,  p.  357). 

Mr.  Borrow  speaks  of  three  kinds 
of  travelling  people  in  England, 
which  he  says  the  so-called  Gipsies 
proper  designate  under  the  names  of 
Chorodies,  Kora-mengre,  and  Hin- 
dity-mengre.  Of  the  first  he  says  : — 

"  The  trades  of  the  men  are  tinkering 
and  basket-making,  and  some  few  '  peel 
the  stick  '  [that  is,  make  skewers].  The 
women  go  about  with  the  articles  made 
by  their  husbands,  or  rather  partners, 
and  sometimes  do  a  little  in  the  fortune- 
telling  line  "  (p.  267).  Those  he  met 
at  Wandsworth  "  live  in  the  vilest  tents, 
with  the  exception  of  two  or  three 
families,  who  have  their  abode  in  broken 


and  filthy  caravans.  They  have  none 
of  the  comforts  and  elegancies  of  the 
Gipsies  "  (p.  267).  "  They  have  coarse, 
vulgar  features,  "and  hair  which  puts 
one  wonderfully  in  mind  of  refuse  flax, 
or  the  material  of  which  mops  are  com- 
posed [a  very  good  description  of  fair, 
mixed  Gipsies].  Their  complexions, 
when  not  obscured  with  grime,  are 
rather  fair  than  dark,  evidencing  that 
their  origin  is  low,  swinish  Saxon,  and 
not  gentle  Romany.  Their  language  is 
the  frowsiest  English,  interlarded  with 
cant  expressions  and  a  few  words  of 
bastard  Romany  "  (p.  267)  [a  point  worth 
noticing].  But  they  say  of  themselves, 
"  We  are  no  Gipsies — not  we  !  no,  nor 
Irish  either.  We  are  English,  and  decent 
folks — none  of  your  rubbish."  *  "  The 
Gipsies  hold  them,  and  with  reason,  in 
supreme  contempt,  and  it  is  from  them 
that  they  got  their  name  of  Chorodies  " 
(p.  268)  \Choredo,  in  Gipsy,  signifying  a 
poor,  miserable  person]. 

"  The  Kora-mengre  are  the  lowest  of 
those  hawkers  who  go  about  the  coun- 
try villages  and  the  streets  of  London, 
with  caravans  hung  about  with  various 
common  articles,  such  as  mats,  brooms, 
mops,  tin  pans,  and  kettles.  These  low 
hawkers  seem  to  be  of  much  the  same 
origin  as  the  Chorodies  [whatever  that 
is],  and  are  almost  equally  brutal  and 
repulsive  in  their  manners.  The  name 
Kora-mengre  is  Gipsy,  and  signifies  fel- 
lows who  cry  out  and  shout,  from  their 
practice  o/  shouting  out  the  names  of 
their  goods  "  (p.  268). 

"  Lastly  come  the  Hindity-mengre,  or 
Filthy  People.  This  term  has  been  be- 
stowed upon  the  vagrant  Irish  by  the 
Gipsies,  from  the  dirty  ways  attributed 
to  them The  trade  they  osten- 
sibly drive  is  tinkering,  repairing  old 
kettles,  and  making  little  pots  and  pans 
of  tin.  The  one,  however,  on  which 
they  principally  depend,  is  not  tinkering, 
but  one  far  more  lucrative,  and  requir- 
ing more  cleverness  and  dexterity  ;  they 
make  false  rings,  like  the  Gipsy  smiths  " 
(p.  269).  "  Each  of  these  Hindity-men- 
gre  has  his  blow-pipe,  and  some  of 
them  can  execute  their  work  in  a  style 
little  inferior  to  that  of  a  first-rate  work- 
ing goldsmith  "  (p.  270). 


*  Mixed  Gipsies  tell  no  lies,  when  they 
say  that  they  are  not  Gipsies ;  for,  physi- 
ologically speaking,  they  are  not  Gipsies, 
but  only  partly  Gipsies,  as  regards  blood. 
In  every  other  way  they  are  Gipsies,  that 
is,  chabos,  cabs,  or  dials  (Ed.,  p.  427). 


THE  DESTINY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  GIPSIES. 


Mr.  Borrow  does  not  venture  to 
tell  us  who  these  Irish  Hindity-men- 
gre  are,  but  he  says  : — 

"  The  Chorodies  are  the  legitimate 
[why  the  legitimate  ?~\  descendants  of 
the  rogues  and  outcasts  who  roamed 
about  England  long  [how  long  ?]  before 
its  soil  was  trodden  by  a  Gipsy  foot "  (p. 
267) ;  and  that  \ho.Kora-inengre  "  seem 
to  be  of  much  the  same  origin  as  the 
Chorodies  "  (p.  268). 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know 
why  he  so  arbitrarily  pitched  upon 
their  descent  from  people  having  an 
existence  long  before  the  Gipsies  en- 
tered the  country.  He  describes 
them  as 

"  Strange,  wild  guests  ....  who, 
without  being  Gipsies,  have  much  of 
Gipsyism  in  their  habits,  and  who  far 
exceed  the  Gipsies  in  number  "  (p.  266) ; 
"  Gipsies,  or  gentry  whose  habits  very 
much  resemble  those  of  Gipsies "  (p. 
278) ;  and  "vagrant  people,  less  of  Gip- 
sies than  those  who  call  themselves  trav- 
ellers [the  cant  phrase  for  Gipsies  in- 
cog.],  and  are  denominated  by  the  Gip- 
sies Chorodies"  (p.  280). 

Here  we  have  nothing  but  asser- 
tion, or  rather  mere  supposition, 
and  no  trace  of  any  investigation 
into  the  subject.  As  for  English 
mixed  Gipsies,  whether  settled  or 
itinerant,  he  says  nothing  about  them, 
as  if  they  had  no  existence.  He 
indeed  incidentally  alludes  to  two 
mixed  marriages,  that  of  the  parents 
of  Thomas  Herne — the  father  being 
a  Gipsy,  and  the  mother  a  "  Gen- 
tile of  Oxford"  (p.  157);  and  one 
of  the  Hernes  married  to  at  least  a 
so-called  "  thorough-bred  English- 
man," whose  "  caravan,  a  rather 
stately  affair,  is  splendidly  furnished 
within"  (p.  282).  Nor  does  he  ac- 
count for  the  people  mentioned  liv- 
ing so  exactly  like  Gipsies,  and  as 
being  outwardly  Gipsies  in  every- 
thing but  their  physical  appearance. 

We  have  seen  that  Mr.  Borrow 
expressed  his  inability  to  account 
for  what  became  of  the  Spanish  Gip- 
sies, when  he  alluded  to  the  subject 
in  the  Gipsies  in  Spain,  published  in 


1841.  In  the  present  work  he  re- 
fers to  the  same  aspect  of  the  ques- 
tion as  it  applies  to  the  race  in  Eng- 
land. Thus  he  says  : — 

"  The  Gipsies  call  each  other  brother 
and  sister,  and  are  not  in  the  habit  of 
admitting  to  their  fellowship  people  of 
a  different  blood,  and  with  whom  they 
have  no  sympathy"  (p.  214).  "The 
highly  exclusive  race  of  the  Gipsies" 
(p.  216).  "  They  have  a  double  nomen- 
clature, each  tribe  or  family  having  a 
public  and  a  private  name  ;  one  by  which 
they  are  known  to  the  Gentiles,  and  an- 
other to  themselves  alone  "  (p.  225). 

And  yet  he  says  of  this  very  pecu- 
liar and  exclusive  people — so  self- 
contained  and  so  prolific  in  their 
nature,  and  so  separated  from  the 
rest  of  the  population  by  such  a 
strong  prejudice  of  caste  as  exists 
against  them  —  that,  by  the  mere 
change  of  life,  brought  about  by  the 
rural  police  preventing  them  camp- 
ing out,  and  following  the  original 
Gipsy  habits,  "  there  is  every  reason 
to  suppose  that  within  a  few  years 
the  English  Gipsy  caste  will  have 
disappeared,  merged  in  the  dregs 
of  the  English  population  "  (p. 
222).  In  point  of  fact,  they  can- 
not  avoid  being  Gipsies,  settled  or  un- 
settled, honest  or  dishonest,  and  will 
"  merge  "  part  of  the  common  Eng- 
lish blood  among  them,  as  the  tribe  in 
the  British  Islands  and  Western  Eu- 
rope have  to  a  very  great  extent 
done  already,  as  illustrated  by  what 
Mr.  Borrow  himself  found  at  Yet- 
holm.  "  Gipsyism  is  declining,  and 
its  days  are  numbered"  (p.  220). 
He  said  that  more  than  thirty  years 
ago.  As  for  the  Gipsies  "declin- 
ing," "  becoming  extinct,"  or  "  ceas- 
ing to  be  Gipsies,"  by  a  change  of 
habits,  there  is  as  much  discrimina- 
tion and  reason  in  the  assertion  or 
supposition,  as  would  be  implied  in 
the  opinion  of  the  farmers'  chick- 
ens, that  there  are  few  or  no  Gipsies 
in  the  country  for  the  reason  that 
the  hen-roosts  have  not  been  trou- 
bled as  of  old. 

"  True  Gipsyism  consists  in  wan- 


I32 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


dering  about,  in  preying  upon  the 
Gentiles,  but  not  living  amongst 
them  "  (p.  221).  That  is  its  original 
condition,  no  doubt.  The  power  of 
the  rural  police  must  be  in  its  nature 
limited  :  it  does  not  extend  over  the 
tribe  in  towns,  or  in  the  country 
when  it  does  not  trespass  on  private 
property,  or  encumber  the  roads; 
nor  could  the  force  otherwise  le- 
gally interfere  with  the  tribe  un- 
less when  it  engaged  in  actions  for- 
bidden to  it,  in  common  with  the 
rest  of  the  population.  Mr.  Bor- 
row has  at  various  times  given  ex- 
pression to  a  number  of  amazingly 
crude  remarks  on  this  subject.  Did 
he  never  meet  with  Gipsies  who  did 
not  live  in  the  old  fashion  ?  and  did 
he  not  find  them  Gipsies  as  much  as 
those  following  the  original  habits  ? 
It  has  often  been  a  subject  of  reflec- 
tion to  me,  why  people  should  have 
taken  a  view  of  this  subject  so  dia- 
metrically opposed  to  the  facts  of  it, 
and  without  in  any  way  investigat- 
ing it.* 

The  strangest  phenomenon  con- 
nected with  the  Gipsies  is,  in  some 
respects,  Mr.  Borrow  himself.  Here 
has  he  been  "a-sweeping"  the 
Gipsy  chimney  for  the  last  thirty 
odd  years,  and  has  not  got  further 
in  the  job  than  sticking  in  the  vent, 
and  preventing  it  drawing,  or  being 
swept  by  others.  And  heaven  knows 
that  that  chimney  wants  cleaning 
badly.  As  to  the  so-called  disap- 
pearance of  the  Gipsies,  I  could  not 
look  upon  what  he  says  as  his  real 

*  A  Gipsy,  of  some  property,  who  gave 
one  of  her  sons  a  good  education,  de- 
clared that  the  young  man  was  entirely 
spoiled  (p.  364).  It  is  well  to  notice  the 
fact,  that  by  giving  a  Gipsy  child  a  good 
education,  it  became  "entirely  spoiled." 
It  would  be  well  if  we  could  "  spoil "  all 
the  Gipsies.  A  thoroughly-spoiled  Gipsy 
makes  a  very  good  man,  but  leaves  him 
a  Gipsy  notwithstanding.  A  "  thorough 
Gipsy"  has  two  meanings  ;  one  strongly 
attached  to  the  tribe,  and  its  original  hab- 
its, or  one  without  these  original  habits. 
There  are  a  good  many  "  spoiled  "  Gip- 
sies, male  and  female,  in  Scotland  (Ed.,  p. 
364). 


opinions,  were  it  not  for  his  incon- 
sistent and  illogical  ideas  about 
other  matters  connected  with  their 
history.  Even  to  the  last  he  sticks 
to  his  old  opinion  regarding  the 
disappearance  of  the  tribe  by  in- 
termarriage, in  the  face  of  the  great- 
ly-mixed breeds  he  found  at  Yet- 
holm,  some  of  whom  he  described, 
as  we  have  already  seen,  "  as  nei- 
ther the  children  nor  the  grand-chil- 
dren of  real  Gipsies,  but  only  the 
remote  descendants,"  "  in  whom  a 
few  drops  of  Gipsy  blood  were  mix- 
ed with  some  Scottish  and  a  much 
larger  quantity  of  low  Irish  "*  (p. 
328).  And  that  throws  a  great  light 
upon  all  he  said  about  the  three 


*  The  Rev.  John  Baird,  the  Minister  of 
Yetholm,  in  his  first  missionary  report  in 
1840,  when  he  had  thirty -eight  Gipsy 
children  attending  his  school,  mentions 
that  a  few  of  the  Gipsy  population  there 
"  possess  fair  complexions,  and  some  of 
them  even  red  hair,"  so  that  a  "  stranger, 
entering  their  dwellings,  would  never  for 
one  moment  regard  them  as  real  Gip- 
sies." "  However,  this  is  true  of  much  the 

smaller  proportion The  present 

race  are  little  more  than  half  caste." 

The  woman  Mr.  Borrow  first  address- 
ed, said  of  this  Gipsy  colony,  that  "  they 
are  far  less  Gipsy  than  Irish,  a  great  deal 
of  Irish  being  mixed  in  their  veins  with  a 
very  little  of  the  much  more  respectable 
Gipsy  blood  "  (p.  311).  .This  idea  is  doubt- 
less an  assumption,  so  far  as  it  applies  to 
common  Irish  blood  as  imported,  although 
it  may  apply  to  Irish  blood  gipsified  in 
Ireland  before  it  found  its  way  into  Scot- 
land. In  the  History  of  the  Gipsies,  we 
find  the  following  : — 

"  Almost  all  the  Scottish  Gipsies  assert 
that  their  ancestors  came  by  way  of  Ire- 
land into  Scotland. 

"  [This  is  extremely  likely.  On  the 
publication  of  the  edict  of  Ferdinand  of 
Spain,  in  1492,  some  of  the  Spanish  Gip- 
sies would  likely  pass  over  to  the'South 
of  Ireland,  and  thence  find  their  way  into 
Scotland  before  1506.  Anthonius  Gawino, 
above  referred  to,  would  almost  seem  to 
be  a  Spanish  name.  We  may,  therefore, 
very  safely  assume  that  the  Gipsies  of 
Scotland  are  of  Spanish' Gipsy  descent 
(Ed.,  p.  98)]-" 

The  Yetholm  Gipsies  may  even  have 
called  themselves  Irish,  when  that  would 
have  served  a  better  purpose  than  to  be 
known  as  Gipsies. 


THE  NATURAL  PERPETUA  TION  OF  THE  GIPSY  RACE. 


kinds  of  "  travelling  people  "  to  be 
found  in  England,  as  described  by 
him.  They  will  deny  that  they  be- 
long to  the  tribe ;  so  will  the  pure- 
blood  or  more  original  kind  of  Gip- 
sies say  the  same  of  them.  But 
there  is  no  difficulty  in  the  way  of 
believing  that  they,  or  many,  or 
most  of  them,  "  belong  to  the  tribe," 
however  remote  the  descent  from 
the  original  Gipsies,  even  if  they  had 
only  "  a  few  words  of  Bastard  Roma- 
ny," or  none  at  all  for  that  matter, 
excepting,  perhaps,  a  few  catch  or 
pass-words.  For  a  full  discussion 'of 
the  whole  subject,  I  refer  the  reader 
to  the  History  of  the  Gipsies,  and 
will  add  here  the  following  extracts 
from  it  : — 

In  expatiating  on  the  subject  of  the 
Gipsy  race  always  being  the  Gipsy  race, 
I  have  had  it  remarked  to  me  : — "  Sup- 
pose Gipsies  should  not  mention  to  their 
children  the  fact  of  their  being  Gipsies  ?  " 
In  that  case,  I  replied,  the  children', 
especially  if,  for  the  most  part,  of  white 
blood,  would  simply  not  be  Gipsies ; 
they  would,  of  course,  have  some  of 
'•'the  blood,"  but  they  would  not  be 
Gipsies  if  they  had  no  knowledge  of  the 
fact.  But  to  suppose  that  Gipsies  should 
not  learn  that  they  are  Gipsies,  on  ac- 
count of  their  parents  not  telling  them 
of  it,  is  to  presume  that  they  had  no 
other  relatives.  Their  being  Gipsies  is 
constantly  talked  of  among  themselves  ; 
so  that,  if  Gipsy  children  should  not 
hear  their  "  wonderful  story  "  from  their 
parents,  they  would  readily  enough  hear 
it  from  their  other  relatives.  This  is  as- 
suming, however,  that  the  Gipsy  mind 
can  act  otherwise  than  the  Gipsy  mind  ; 
which  it  cannot. — It  sometimes  happens, 
as  the  Gipsies  separate  into  classes,  like 
all  other  races  or  communities  of  men, 
that  a  great  deal  of  jealousy  is  stirred 
up  in  the  minds  of  the  poorer  members 
of  the  tribe,  on  account  of  their  being 
shunned  by  the  wealthier  kind.  They 
are  then  apt  to  say  that  the  exclusive 
members  have  left  the  tribe  ;  which, 
with  them,  is  an  undefined  and  confused 
idea,  at  the  best,  principally  on  account 
of  their  limited  powers  of  reflection, 
and  the  subject  never  being  alluded  to 
by  the  others.  This  jealousy  sometimes 
leads  them  to  dog  these  straggling 
sheep,  so  that,  as  far  as  lies  in  their 


power,  they  will  not  allow  them  to  leave, 
as  they  imagine,  the  Gipsy  fold  (Ed.,  p. 
413). 

There  is  a  point  which  I  have  not 
explained  so  fully  as  I  might  have 
done,  and  it  is  this : — "  Is  any  of  the 
blood  ever  lost?  that  is,  does  it  ever 
cease  to  be  Gipsy,  in  knowledge  and 
feeling  ?  "  That  is  a  question  not  easily 
answered  in  the  affirmative,  were  it  only 
for  this  reason  :  how  can  it  ever  be  as- 
certained that  the  knowledge  and  feel- 
ing of  being  Gipsies  become  lost  ?  Let 
us  suppose  that  a  couple  of  Gipsies  leave 
England,  and  settle  in  America,  and 
that  they  never  come  in  contact  with 
any  of  their  race,  and  that  their  chil- 
dren never  learn  anything  of  the  mat- 
ter from  any  quarter.  In  such  an  ex- 
treme, I  may  say,  such  an  unnatural  case, 
the  children  would  not  be  Gipsies,  but, 
if  born  in  America,  ordinary  Americans. 
The  only  way  in  which  the  Gipsy  blood 
— that  is,  the  Gipsy  feeling — can  pos- 
sibly be  lost,  is  by  a  Gipsy  (a  man  espe- 
cially) marrying  an  ordinary  native,  and 
the  children  never  learning  of  the  cir- 
cumstance. But,  as  I  have  said  be- 
fore, how  is  that  ever  to  be  ascertained  ? 
The  question  might  be  settled  in  this 
way : — Let  the  relatives  of  the  Gipsy 
interrogate  the  issue,  and  if  it  answers, 
truly,  that  it  knows  nothing  of  the 
Gipsy  connexion,  and  never  has  its 
curiosity  in  the  matter  excited,  it  holds, 
beyond  dispute,  that  "the  blood"  has 
been  lost  to  the  tribe.  For  any  loss  the 
tribe  may  sustain,  in  that  way,  it  gains, 
in  an  ample  degree,  by  drawing  upon 
the  blood  of  the  native  race,  and  trans- 
muting it  into  that  of  its  own  fraternity 
(Ed.,  p.  532). 

The  subject  of  the  Gipsies  has  hither- 
to been  treated  as  a  question  of  natural 
history  only,  in  the  same  manner  as  we 
would  treat  ant-bears.  Writers  have 
sat  down  beside  them,  and  looked  at 
them — little  more  than  looked  at  them 
— described  some  of  their  habits,  and 
reported  their  chaff.  To  get  to  the 
bottom  of  the  subject,  it  is  necessary  to 
sound  the  mind  of  the  Gipsy,  lay  open 
and  dissect  his  heart,  identify  one's  self 
with  his  feelings  and  the  bearings  of 
his  ideas,  and  construct,  out  of  these,  a 
system  of  mental  science,  based  upon 
the  mind  of  the  Gipsy,  and  human  na- 
ture generally.  For  it  is  the  mind  of  the 
Gipsy  that  constitutes  the  Gipsy;  that 
which,  in  reference  to  its  singular  origin 


134 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


and  histoiy,  is,  in  itself,  indestructible, 
imperishable  and  immortal  (Ed.,  p.  452). 

What  may  be  termed  the  philosophy 
of  the  Gipsies  is  very  simple  in  itself, 
when  we  have  before  us  its  main  points, 
its  principles,  its  bearings,  its  genius  ; 
and  fully  appreciated  the  circumstances 
with  which  the  people  are  surrounded. 
The  most  remarkable  thing  about  the 
subject  is,  that  people  never  should 
have  dreamt  of  its  nature,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  believed  that  "  the  Gipsies  are 
gradually  disappearing,  and  will  soon 
become  extinct."  The  Gipsies  have 
always  been  disappearing,  but  where  do 
they  go  to  ?  Look  at  any  tent  of  Gip- 
sies, when  the  family  are  all  together, 
and  see  how  prolific  they  are.  What, 
then,  becomes  of  this  increase  ?  The 
present  work  answers  the  question.  It 
is  a  subject,  however,  which  I  have 
found  some  difficulty  in  getting  people 
to  understand.  One  cannot  see  how  a 
person  can  be  a  Gipsy,  "  because  his 
father  was  a  respectable  man  ;"  another, 
"  because  his  father  was  an  old  soldier ;" 
and  another  cannot  see  "  how  it  neces- 
sarily follows  that  a  person  is  a  Gipsy, 
for  the  reason  that  his  parents  were 
Gipsies."  The  idea,  as  disconnected 
from  the  use  of  a  tent,  or  following  a 
certain  kind  of  life,  may  be  said  to  be 
strange  to  the  world  ;  and,  on  that  ac- 
count, is  not  very  easily  impressed  on 
the  human  mind.  It  would  be  singular, 
however,  if  a  Scotchman,  after  all  that 
has  been  said,  should  not  be  able  to 
understand  what  is  meant  by  the  Scot- 
tish Gipsy  tribe,  or  that  it  should  ever 
cease  to  be  that  tribe  as  it  progresses  in 
life.  In  considering  the  subject,  he  need 
not  cast  about  for  much  to  look  at,  for 
he  should  exercise  his  mind,  rather  than 
his  eyes,  when  he  approaches  it.  It  is, 
principally,  a  mental  phenomenon,  and 
should,  therefore,  be  judged  of  by  the 
faculties  of  the  mind  :  for  a  Gipsy  may 
not  differ  a  whit  from  an  ordinary  na- 
tive, in  external  appearance  or  character, 
while,  in  his  mind,  he  may  be  as  thor- 
ough a  Gipsy  as  one  could  well  imag- 
ine. 

In  contemplating  the  subject  of  the 
Gipsies,  we  should  have  a  regard  for 
the  facts  of  the  question,  and  not  be  led 
by  what  we  might,  or  might  not,  imag- 
ine of  it.  The  race  might,  to  a  certain 
extent,  be  judged  analogously,  by  what 
we  know  of  other  races  ;  but  that  which 
is  pre-eminently  necessary,  is  to  judge 
of  it  by  facts  :  for  facts,  in  a  matter  like 


this,  take  precedence  of  everything. 
Even  in  regard  to  the  Gipsy  language, 
broken  as  it  is,  people  are  very  apt  to 
say  that  it  cannot  exist  at  the  present 
day;  yet  the  least  reflection  will  con- 
vince us,  that  the  language  which  the 
Gipsies  use  is  the  remains  of  that  which 
they  brought  with  them  into  Europe, 
and  not  a  make-up,  to  serve  their  pur- 
poses. The  very  genius  peculiar  to 
them,  as  an  Oriental  people,  is  a  suffi- 
cient guarantee  of  this  fact ;  and  the 
more  so  from  their  having  been  so  thor- 
oughly separated,  by  the  prejudice  of 
caste,  from  others  around  them  ;  which 
would  so  naturally  lead  them  to  use  and 
retain  their  peculiar  speech.  But  the 
use  of  the  Gipsy  language  is  not  the 
only,  not  even  the  principal,  means  of 
maintaining  a  knowledge  of  being  Gip- 
sies ;  perhaps  it  is  altogether  unneces- 
sary ;  for  the  mere  consciousness  of  the 
fact  of  being  Gipsies,  transmitted  from 
generation  to  generation,  and  made  the 
basis  of  marriages,  and  the  intimate  as- 
sociations of  life,  is,  in  itself,  perfectly 
sufficient.  The  subject  of  two  distinct 
races  existing  upon  the  same  soil  is  not 
very  familiar  to  the  mind  of  a  British 
subject.  To  acquire  a  knowledge  of 
such  a  phenomenon,  he  should  visit  cer- 
tain parts  of  Europe,  or  Asia,  or  Africa, 
or  the  New  World.  Since  all  (I  may 
say  all)  Gipsies  hide  the  knowledge  of 
their  being  Gipsies  from  the  other  in- 
habitants, as  they  leave  the  tent,  it  can- 
not be  said  that  any  of  them  really  deny 
themselves,  even  should  they  hide  them- 
selves from  those  of  their  own  race. 
The  ultimate  test  of  a  person  being  a 
Gipsy  would  be  for  another  to  catch  the 
internal  response  of  his  mind  to  the 
question  put  to  him  as  to  the  fact ;  or 
observe  the  workings  of  his  heart  in  his 
contemplations  of  himself.  It  can  hardly 
be  said  that  any  Gipsy  denies,  at  heart, 
the  fact  of  his  being  a  Gipsy  (which,  in- 
deed, is  a  contradiction  in  terms),  let 
tiim  disguise  it  from  others  as  much  as 
tie  may.  If  I  could  find  such  a  man, 
tie  would  be  the  only  one  of  his  race 
whom  I  would  feel  inclined  to  despise 
as  such  (Ed.,  p.  505). 

In  investigating  this  subject,  I 
would  formulate  the  inquiry  under 
the  following  heads  : — 

i  st.  What  constitutes  a  Gipsy  in 
a  settled  or  unsettled  state  ? 

2d.  What  should  we  ask  a  Gipsy 


HO  IV  THE  GIPSIES  ARE  REARED, 


135 


to  do  to  "  cease  to  be  a  Gipsy,"  and 
become  more  a  native  of  the  coun- 
try of  his  birth  than  he  is  already  ? 

3d.  In  what  relation  does  the  race 
stand  to  others  around  it,  with  refer- 
ence to  intermarriage  and  the  des- 
tiny of  the  mixed  progeny,  and  that 
of  the  tribe  generally  ? 

An  investigation  of  this  kind 
would  involve  a  search  for  so  many 
facts,  however  difficult  of  being 
found ;  and  should  be  conducted  as 
I  have  stated  of  snakes  swallowing 
their  young,  that  is,  "  as  a  fact  is 
proved  in  a  court  of  justice ;  difficul- 
ties, suppositions,  or  theories  [or  anal- 
ogies] not  being  allowed  to  form 
part  of  the  testimony  "  (p.  28). 

As  I  do  not  anticipate  having 
another  opportunity  to  say  anything 
on  the  subject  of  the  Gipsies,  I 
avail  myself  of  this  one  to  give  a 
few  more  extracts  from  the  History, 
as  illustrative  of  some  of  their  pecu- 
liarities, and  of  the  relation  exist- 
ing between  them  and  those  among 
whom  they  live.  The  first  extracts 
describe  how  a  Gipsy  is  reared, 
which  is  the  most  important  point 
connected  with  their  history. 

And  how  does  the  Gipsy  woman 
bring  up  her  children  in  regard  to  her 
race  ?  She  tells  them  her  "  wonder- 
ful story  " — informs  them  who  they  are, 
and  of  the  dreadful  prejudice  that  ex- 
ists against  them,  simply  for  being 
Gipsies.  She  then  tells  them  about 
Pharaoh  and  Joseph  in  Egypt,  terming 
her  people  "  Pharaoh's  folk."  In  short, 
she  dazzles  the  imagination  of  the 
children,  from  the  moment  they  can 
comprehend  the  simplest  idea.  Then 
she  teaches  them  her  words,  or  lan- 
guage, as  the  "real  Egyptian,"  and  fright- 
ens and  bewilders  the  youthful  mind 
by  telling  them  that  they  are  subject  to 
be  hanged  if  they  are  known  to  be 
Gipsies,  or  to  speak  these  words,  or  will 
be  looked  upon  as  wild  beasts  by  those 
around  them.  She  then  informs  the 
children  how  long  the  Gipsies  have 
been  in  the  country  ;  how  they  lived 
in  tents ;  how  they  were  persecuted, 
banished,  and  hanged,  merely  for  be- 
ing Gipsies.  She  then  tells  them  of  her 
people  being  in  every  part  of  the  world, 
whom  they  can  recognize  by  the  lan- 


guage and  signs  which  she  is  teaching 
them ;  and  that  her  race  will  every- 
where be  ready  to  shed  their  blood  for 
them.  She  then  dilates  upon  the  bene- 
fits that  arise  from  being  a  Gipsy — bene- 
fits negative  as  well  as  positive  ;  for 
should  they  ever  be  set  upon — gar- 
roted,  for  example — all  they  will  have  to 
do  will  be  to  cry  out  some  such  expres- 
sion as  "  Bienerate,  calo,  chabo  "  (good- 
night, Gipsy,  or  black  fellow),  when,  it 
there  is  a  Gipsy  near  them,  he  will  pro- 
tect them.  The  children  will  be  fon- 
dled by  her  relatives,  handed  about  and 
hugged  as  "  little  ducks  of  Gipsies." 
The  granny,  while  sitting  at  the  fireside, 
like  a  witch,  performs  no  small  part  in 
the  education  of  the  children,  making 
them  fairly  dance  with  excitement.  In 
this  manner  do  the  children  of  Gipsies 
have  the  Gipsy  soul  literally  breathed 
into  them. 

In  such  a  way — what  with  the  su- 
preme influence  which  the  mother  has 
exercised  over  the  mind  of  the  child 
from  its  very  infancy ;  the  manner  in 
which  its  imagination  has  been  dazzled  ; 
and  the  dreadful  prejudice  towards  the 
Gipsies,  which  they  all  apply,  directly  or 
indirectly,  to  themselves  —  does  the 
Gipsy  adhere  to  his  race.  What  with 
the  blood,  the  education,  the  words,  and 
the  signs,  they  are  simply  Gipsies,  and 
will  be  such  as  long  as  they  retain  a 
consciousness  of  who  they  are,  and  any 
peculiarities  exclusively  Gipsy  (Ed.,  p. 
379). 

Imagine,  then,  a  person  taught  from 
his  infancy  to  understand  that  he  is  a 
Gipsy ;  that  his  blood  (at  least  part  of 
it)  is  Gipsy  ;  that  he  has  been  instruct- 
ed in  the  language  and  initiated  in  all 
the  mysteries  of  the  Gipsies ;  that  his 
relations  and  acquaintances  in  the  tribe 
have  undergone  the  same  experience  ; 
that  the  utmost  reserve  towards  those 
who  are  not  Gipsies  has  been  continu- 
ally inculcated  upon  him,  and  as  often 
practised  before  his  eyes  ;  and  what  must 
be  the  leading  idea,  in  that  person's 
mind,  but  that  he  is  a  Gipsy  ?  His  pedi- 
gree is  Gipsy,  his  mind  has  been  cast  in 
a  Gipsy  mould,  and  he  can  no  more 
"  cease  to  be  a  Gipsy"  than  perform  any 
other  impossibility  in  nature  (Ed.,  p. 
457). 

It  is  even  unnecessary  to  inquire,  par- 
ticularly, how  that  has  been  accomplish- 
ed, for  it  is  self-evident  that  the  process 
which  has  linked  other  races  to  their 
ancestry,  has  doubly  linked  the  Gipsy 


136 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


race  to  theirs.  Indeed,  the  idea  of  be- 
ing Gipsies  never  can  leave  the  Gipsy 
race.  A  Gipsy's  life  is  like  a  continual 
conspiracy  towards  the  rest  of  the 
world  ;  he  has  always  a  secret  upon  his 
mind,  and,  from  his  childhood  to  his  old 
age,  he  is  so  placed  as  if  he  were,  in  a 
negative  sense,  engaged  in  some  gun- 
powder plot,  or  as  if  he  had  committed 
a  crime,  let  his  character  be  as  good  as 
it  possibly  may.  Into  whatever  company 
he  may  enter,  he  naturally  remarks  to 
himself,  "  I  wonder  if  there  are  any  of  us 
here."  That  is  the  position  which  the 
mixed  and  better  kind  of  Gipsy  occu- 
pies, generally  and  passively.  Of  course, 
there  are  some  of  the  race  who  are  al- 
ways actually  hatching  some  plot  or 
other  against  the  rest  of  the  world  (Ed., 
P-453). 

The  next  extracts  explain  the 
effect  of  the  prejudice  that  exists 
against  the  Gipsies  : — 

It  appears  to  me  that  the  more  their 
blood  gets  mixed  with  that  of  the  ordina- 
ry natives,  and  the  more  they  approach 
to  civilization,  the  more  determinedly  will 
they  conceal  every  particular  relative  to 
their  tribe,  to  prevent  their  neighbours 
ascertaining  their  origin  and  nationality. 
The  slightest  taunting  allusion  to  the 
forefathers  of  half -civilized  Scottish 
Tinklers  kindles  up  in  their  breasts  a 
storm  of  wrath  and  fury :  for  they  are 
extremely  sensitive  to  the  feeling  which 
is  entertained  toward  their  tribe  by 
the  other  inhabitants  of  the  country. 
"  I  have,"  said  one  of  them  to  me, 
"  wrought  all  my  life  in  a  shop  with  fel- 
low-tradesmen, and  not  one  of  them 
ever  discovered  that  I  knew  a  single 
Gipsy  word."  A  Gipsy  woman  also  in- 
formed me  that  herself  and  sister  had 
nearly  lost  their  lives  on  account  of  their 
language.  The  following  are  the  par- 
ticulars : — The  two  sisters  chanced  to 
be  in  a  public-house  near  Alloa,  when  a 
number  of  colliers,  belonging  to  the 
coal-works  at  Sauchie,  were  present. 
The  one  sister,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice, 
and  in  the  Gipsy  language,  desired  the 
other,  among  other  things,  to  make  ready 
some  broth  for  their  repast.  The  colliers 
took  hold  of  the  two  Gipsy  words  shau- 
cha  and  blawkie,  which  signify  broth 
and  pot ;  thinking  the  Tinkler  women 
were  calling  them  Sauchie  Blackics,  in 
derision  and  contempt  of  their  dark,  sub- 
terraneous calling.  The  consequence 
was,  that  the  savage  colliers  attacked 


the  innocent  Tinklers,  calling  out  that 
they  would  "  grind  them  to  powder," 
for  calling  them  Sauchie  Blackies.  But 
the  determined  Gipsies  would  rather 
perish  than  explain  the  meaning  of  the 
words  in  English,  to  appease  the  en- 
raged colliers;  "for,"  said  they,  "it 
would  have  exposed  our  tribe,  and  made 
ourselves  odious  to  the  world."  The 
two  defenceless  females  might  have 
been  murdered  by  their  brutal  assail- 
lants,  had  not  the  master  of  the  house 
fortunately  come  to  their  assistance  (p. 
283). 

She  stated  that  the  public  would  look 
upon  her  with  horror  and  contempt, 
were  it  known  she  could  speak  the  Gipsy 
language  (p.  285). 

On  the  whole,  however,  our  Scot- 
tish peasantry,  in  some  districts,  do  not 
greatly  despise  the  Tinklers  ;  at  least 
not  to  the  same  extent  as  the  inhabit- 
ants of  some  other  countries  seem  to  do. 
When  not  involved  in  quarrels  with  the 
Gipsies,  our  country  people,  with  the 
exception  of  a  considerable  portion  of 
the  land-owners,  were,  and  are  even  yet, 
rather  fond  of  the  superior  families  of 
the  nomadic  class  of  these  people,  than 
otherwise  (p.  284). 

This  opinion  is  confirmed  by  the  fact 
that  the  Gipsies  whom  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Crabbe  has  civilized  will  not  now  be 
seen  among  the  others  of  the  tribe,  at 
his  annual  festival  at  Southampton.  We 
have  already  seen,  under  the  head  of 
Continental  Gipsies,  that  "those  who 
are  gold-washers  in  Transylvania  and 
the  Banat,  have  no  intercourse  with 
others  of  their  nation  ;  nor  do  they  like 
to  be  called  Gipsies  "  (p.  283). 

The  prejudice  of  their  fellow -crea- 
tures is  a  sufficiently  potent  cause  in 
itself  to  preserve  the  identity  of  the 
Gipsy  tribe  in  the  world.  It  has  made 
it  to  resemble  an  essence,  hermetically 
sealed.  Keep  it  in  that  position,  and  it 
retains  its  inherent  qualities  undiminish- 
ed  ;  but  uncork  the  vessel  containing  it, 
and  it  might  (I  do  not  say  it  would} 
evaporate  among  the  surrounding  ele- 
ments (Ed.,  p.  534). 

Then  we  have  the  way  in  which 
the  race  gradually  leave  the  tent — the 
hive  from  which  they  swarm — and 
acquire  general  itinerant  or  settled 
habits. 

The  primitive,  original  state  of  the 


HOW  THEY  LEAVE  THE  TENT,  YET  LOVE  THE  LANGUAGE. 


Gipsies  is  the  tent  and  tilted  cart.  But 
as  any  country  can  support  only  a  limit- 
ed number  in  that  way,  and  as  the  in- 
crease of  the  body  is  very  large,  it  fol- 
lows that  they  must  cast  about  to  make 
a  living  in  some  other  way,  however  bit- 
ter the  pill  may  be  which  they  have  to 
swallow.  The  nomadic  Gipsy  portion 
resembles,  in  that  respect,  a  water 
trough  ;  for  the  water  which  runs  into 
it,  there  must  be  a  corresponding  quan- 
tity running  over  it.  The  Gipsies  who 
leave  the  tent  resemble  the  youth  of  our 
small  seaports  and  villages  ;  for  there, 
society  is  so  limited  as  to  compel  such 
youth  to  take  to  the  sea  or  towns,  or  go 
abroad,  to  gain  that  livelihood  which  the 
neighbourhood  in  which  they  have  been 
reared  denies  to  them.  In  the  same 
manner  do  these  Gipsies  look  back  to 
the  tent  from  which  they,  or  their  fa- 
thers, have  sprung.  They  carry  the 
language,  the  associations,  and  the 
sympathies  of  their  race,  and  their  pecu- 
liar feelings  toward  the  community,  with 
them  ;  and  as  residents  of  towns  have 
generally  greater  facilities,  'from  others 
of  their  race  residing  near  them,  for 
perpetuating  their  language,  than  when 
strolling  over  the  country  (Ed.,  p.  10). — 
Still,  they  will  deny  that  they  are  Gipsies, 
and  will  rather  almost  perish  than  let 
any  one,  not  of  their  own  race,  know 
that  they  speak  their  language  in  their 
own  households  and  among  their  own 
kindred.  They  will  even  deny,  or  at 
least  hide  it  from  many  of  their  own 
race  (Ed.,  p.  12). — But  it  is  in  large  towns 
they  feel  more  at  home.  They  then 
form  little  communities  among  them- 
selves ;  and  by  closely  associating  and 
sometimes  huddling  together,  they  can 
more  easily  perpetuate  their  language, 
as  I  have  already  said,  than  by  straggling 
twos  or  threes  through  the  country.  But 
their  quarrelsome  disposition  frequent- 
ly throws  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  such 
associations.  Secret  as  they  have  been 
in  keeping  their  language  from  even 
being  heard  by  the  public  while  wander- 
ers, they  are  much  more  so  since  they 
have  settled  in  towns  (Ed.,  p.  13). 

I  further  inquired  of  her  how  many  of 
her  tribe  were  in  Scotland.  Her  an- 
swer was,  "  There  are  several  thousand  ; 
and  there  are  many  respectable  shop- 
keepers and  householders  in  Scotland 
that  are  Gipsies."  It  was  evident  from 
this  woman's  manner,  that  she  knew 
much  she  would  not  communicate  (p. 
297).— These  innkeepers  and  stone- ware 


merchants  are  scarcely  to  be  distinguish- 
ed as  Gipsies  :  yet  they  all  retain  the 
language,  and  converse  in  it  among 
themselves.  The  females,  as  is  their 
custom,  are  particularly  active  in  mana- 
ging the  affairs  of  their  respective  con- 
cerns (p.  347). 

The  love  which  the  Gipsies  have 
for  their  language  is  described  as 
follows  : — 

It  is  certain  that  a  Gipsy  can  be  a 
good  man,  as  the  world  goes,  nay,  a 
very  good  man,  and  glory  in  being  a 
Gipsy,  but  not  to  the  public.  He  will 
adhere  to  his  ancient  language,  and  talk 
it  in  his  own  family  ;  and  he  has  as 
much  right  to  do  so,  as,  for  example,  a 
Highlander  has  to  speak  Gaelic  in  the 
Lowlands,  or  when  he  goes  abroad,  and 
teach  it  to  his  children.  And  he  takes 
a  greater  pride  in  doing  it,  for  thus  he 
reasons  : — "  What  is  English,  French, 
Gaelic,  or  any  other  living  language 
compared  to  mine?  Mine  will  carry 
me  through  every  part  of  the  known 
world  ;  wherever  a  man  is  to  be  found, 
there  is  my  language  spoken.  I  will 
find  a  brother  in  every  part  of  the 
world  on  which  I  may  set  my  foot  ; 
I  will  be  welcomed  and  passed  along 
wherever  I  may  go.  Freemasonry  in- 
deed !  what  is  Masonry  compared  to  the 
brotherhood  of  the  Gipsies  ?  A  lan- 
guage— a  whole  language — is  its  pass- 
word. I  almost  worship  the  idea  of  be- 
ing a  member  of  a  society  into  which  I 
am  initiated  by  my  blood  and  language. 
I  would  not  be  a  man  if  I  did  not  love 
my  kindred,  and  cherish  in  my  heart 
that  peculiarity  of  my  race  [its  lan- 
guage] which  casts  a  halo  of  glory 
around  it,  and  makes  it  the  winder  of 
the  world  !  "  (Ed.,  p.  12.) 

For,  besides  the  dazzling  hold  which 
the  Gipsy  language  takes  of  the  mind  of 
a  Gipsy,  as  the  language  of  those  black, 
mysterious  heroes  from  whom  he  is  de- 
scended, the  keeping  of  it  up  forms  the 
foundation  of  that  self-respect  which  a 
Gipsy  has  for  himself,  amidst  the  preju- 
dice of  the  world  ;  from  which,  at  the 
bottom  of  his  heart,  whatever  his  posi- 
tion in  life,  or  character,  or  associations, 
may  be,  he  considers  himself  separated 
(Ed.,  p.  408).  They  pique  themselves 
on  their  descent,  and  on  being  in  pos- 
session of  secrets  which  are  peculiarly 
and  exclusively  theirs,  and  which  they 
imagine  no  other  knows,  or  will  ever 


138 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


know.  They  feel  that  they  are  part  and 
parcel  of  those  mysterious  beings  who 
are  an  enigma  to  others,  no  less  than  to 
themselves  (Ed.,  p.  402). 

They  are  also  anxious  to  retain  their 
language,  as  a  secret  among  themselves, 
for  the  use  which  it  is  to  them  in  con- 
ducting business  in  markets  or  other 
places  of  public  resort.  But  they  are 
very  chary  of  the  manner  in  which  they 
employ  it  on  such  occasions.  Besides 
this,  they  display  all  the  pride  and  van- 
ity in  possessing  the  language  which  is 
common  with  linguists  generally  (p. 
284). 

It  is  beyond  doubt  that  the  Gipsy  lan- 
guage in  Great  Britain  is  broken,  but 
not  so  broken  as  to  consist  of  words 
only ;  it  consists,  rather,  of  expressions, 
or  pieces,  which  are  tacked  together  by 
native  words— generally  small  words — 
which  are  lost  to  the  ordinary  ear,  when 
used  in  conversation.  In  that  respect, 
the  use  of  Gipsy  may  be  compared  to  the 
revolutions  of  a  wheel :  we  know  that 
the  wheel  has  spokes,  but,  in  its  velocity, 
we  cannot  distinguish  the  colour  or  ma- 
terial of  each  individual  spoke  ;  it  is  only 
when  it  stands  still  that  that  can  be  done. 
In  the  same  manner,  when  we  come 
to  examine  into  the  British  Gipsy  lan- 
guage, we  perceive  its  broken  nature. 
But  it  still  serves  the  purpose  of  a 
speech.  Let  any  one  sit  among  English 
Gipsies,  in  America,  and  hear  them 
converse,  and  he  cannot  pick  up  an 
idea,  and  hardly  a  word  which  they  say. 
"  I  have  always  thought  Dutch  bad 
enough,"  said  an  Irishman,  who  has 
often  heard  English  Gipsies,  in  the  State 
of  New  Jersey,  speak  among  themselves  ; 
"  but  Gipsy  is  perfect  gibble-gabble,  like 
ducks  and  geese,  for  anything  I  can 
make  of  it"  (Ed.,  p.  432). 

Had  a  German  listened  a  whole  day 
to  a  Gipsy  conversation,  he  would  not 
have  understood  a  single  expression. — 
Grellmann. 

The  dialect  of  the  English  Gipsies, 
though  mixed  with  English,  is  tolerably 
pure,  from  the  fact  of  its  being  intelligi- 
ble to  the  race  in  the  centre  of  Russia. 
—Borrow  (Ed.,  p.  298).* 
f 

*  I  shall  only  observe,  that  the  way  in 
which  the  Gipsy  language  has  been  cor- 
rupted is  this  : — That  whenever  the  Gip- 
sies find  words  not  understood  by  the 
people  among  whom  they  travel,  they 


How  the  Gipsies  are  taught  their 
language  is  thus  explained : — 

Their  speech  appears  to  be  copious, 
for,  said  he,  they  have  a  great  many 
words  and  expressions  for  one  thing. 
He  further  stated  that  the  Gipsy  lan- 
guage has  no  alphabet,  or  character, 
by  which  it  can  be  learned,  or  its  gram- 
matical construction  ascertained.  He 
never  saw  any  of  it  written.  I  observed 
to  him  that  it  would,  in  course  of  time, 
be  lost.  He  replied,  that  "  so  long  as 
there  existed  two  Gipsies  in  Scotland,  it 
would  never  be  lost."  It  was  further 
stated  to  me,  by  this  family,  that  the  Gip- 
sies are  at  great  pains  in  teaching  their 
Children,  from  their  very  infancy,  their 
own  language  ;  and  that  they  embrace 
every  opportunity,  when  by  themselves, 
of  conversing  in  it,  about  their  ordinary 
affairs  (p.  316). 

I  observed  to  this  woman  that  her 
language  would,  in  course  of  time,  be 
lost.  She  replied,  with  great  serious- 
ness, "  It  will  never  be  forgotten,  sir  ;  it 
is  in  our  hearts,  and  as  long  as  a  single 
Tinkler  exists,  it  will  be  remembered  " 
(p.  297). 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ruthven,  "  I  am  a 
Gipsy,  and  a  desperate,  murdering  race 
we  are.  I  will  let  you  hear  me  speak 
our  language,  but  what  the  better  will 
you  be  of  that  ?"  She  accordingly  ut- 
tered a  few  sentences,  and  then  said, 
"  Now,  are  you  any  the  wiser  for  what 
you  have  heard  ?  But  that  infant," 
pointing  to  her  child  of  about  five  years 
of  age,  "  understands  every  word  I 
speak."  "  I  know,"  continued  the  Tink- 
ler, "  that  the  public  are  trying  to  find 
out  the  secrets  of  the  Gipsies,  but  it  is  in 
vain."  This  woman  further  stated  that 
her  tribe  would  be  exceedingly  displeas- 
ed, were  it  known  that  any  of  their 
fraternity  taught  their  language  to 

commit  such  to  memory,  and  use  them  in 
their  conversation,  for  the  purpose  of 
concealment.  In  the  Lowlands  of  Scot- 
land, for  example,  they  make  use  of  Gae- 
lic, Welsh,  Irish,  and  French  words. 
These  picked-up  words  and  terms  have, 
in  the  end,  become  part  of  their  own  pe- 
culiar tongue  ;  yet  some  of  the  Gipsies 
are  able  to  point  out  a  number  of  these 
foreign  words,  as  distinguished  from  their 
own.  In  this  manner  do  the  Gipsies  carry 
along  with  them  part  of  the  language  of 
every  country  through  which  they  pass 
(P-  333). 


HOW  THEY  TEACH  THE  LANGUAGE,  AND  RESENT  CURIOSITY. 


"  strangers."  She  also  mentioned  that 
the  Gipsies  believe  that  the  laws  which 
were  enacted  for  their  extirpation  were 
yet  in  full  force  against  them.  I  may 
mention,  however,  that  she  could  put 
confidence  in  the  family  in  whose  house 
she  made  these  confessions  *  (p.  294). 

At  first,  he  appeared  much  alarmed, 
and  seemed  to  think  I  had  a  design  to 
do  him  harm.  His  fears,  however,  were 
in  a  short  while  calmed  ;  and,  after  much 
reluctance,  he  gave  me  the  following 
words  and  expressions,  with  the  corre- 
sponding English  significations.  Like  a 
true  Gipsy,  the  first  expression  which  he 
uttered,  as  if  it  came  the  readiest  to  him, 
was,  "  Choar  a  chauvie"  —  (rob  that 
person) — which  he  pronounced  with  a 
smile  on  his  countenance  (p.  295).  He 
stated  to  me  that,  at  the  present  day, 
the  Gipsies  in  Scotland,  when  by  them- 
selves, transact  their  business  in  their 
own  language,  and  hold  all  their  ordi- 
nary conversations  in  the  same  speech. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  minutes,  Steed- 
man's  fears  returned  upon  him.  He  ap- 
peared to  regret  what  he  had  done.  He 
now  said  he  had  forgotten  the  language, 
,  and  referred  me  to  his  father,  old  An- 
drew Steedman,  who,  he  said,  would 
give  me  every  information  I  might  re- 
quire. I  imprudently  sent  him  out,  to 
bring  the  old  man  to  me  ;  for,  when 
both  returned,  all  further  communica- 
tion, with  regard  to  their  speech,  was  at 
an  end.  Both  were  now  dead  silent  on 
the  subject,  denied  all  knowledge  of  the 
Gipsy  language,  and  were  evidently 
under  great  alarm.  The  old  man  would 
not  face  me  at  all ;  and  when  I  went  to 
him,  he  appeared  to  be  shaking  and 
trembling,  while  he  stood  at  the  head 
of  his  horses,  in  his  own  stable.  Young 
Steedman  entreated  me  to  tell  no  one 
that  he  had  given  me  any  words,  as  the 
Tinklers,  he  said,  would  be  exceedingly 
displeased  with  him  for  doing  so.  This 
man,  however,  by  being  kindly  treated, 


*  The  Gipsies  are  always  afraid  to  say 
what  they  would  do  in  such  cases.  Per- 
haps they  don't  know,  but  have  only  a 
general  impression  that  the  individual 
would  "  catch  it ;"  or  there  may  be  some 
old  law  on  the  subject.  What  Ruthven 
said  of  her's  being  a  desperate  race  is 
true  enough,  and  murderous  too,  among 
themselves,  as  distinguished  from  the  in- 
habitants generally.  Her  remark  was 
evidently  part  of  that  frightening  policy 
which  keeps  the  natives  from  molesting 
the  tribe  (Ed.,  p.  294). 


and  seeing  no  intention  of  doing  him 
any  harm,  became,  at  an  after  period, 
communicative,  on  various  subjects  rela- 
tive to  the  Gipsies  *  (p.  296). 

This  man  conducted  himself  very  po- 
litely, his  behaviour  being  very  correct 
and  becoming;  and  he  seemed  much 
pleased  at  being  noticed,  and  kindly 
treated.  At  first,  he  spoke  wholly  in 
the  Gipsy  language,  thinking  that  I  was 
as  well  acquainted  with  it  as  himself. 
But  when  he  found  that  I  knew  only  a 
few  words  of  it,  he,  like  all  his  tribe, 
stopped  in  his  communications,  and,  in 
this  instance,  began  Jo  quiz  and  laugh 
at  my  ignorance.  On  returning  to  the 
street,  I  repeated  some  of  the  words  to 
one  of  the  females.  She  laughed,  and, 
with  much  good  humour,  said,  "  You 
will  put  me  out,  by  speaking  to  me  in 
that  language  "  (p.  329). 

This  is  the  way  in  which  the  Gip- 
sies resent  the  curiosity  of  others  in 
regard  to  their  language  : — 

During  the  following  summer,  a 
brother  and  a  cousin  of  these  girls 
called  at  my  house,  selling  baskets. 
The  one  was  about  twenty-one,  the 
other  fifteen,  years  of  age.  I  happened 
to  be  from  home,  but  one  of  my  family, 
suspecting  them  to  be  Gipsies,  invited 
them  into  the  house,  and  mentioned  to 
them  (although  very  incorrectly),  that  I 
understood  every  word  of  their  speech. 
"  So  I  saw,"  replied  the  eldest  lad,  "  for 
when  he  passed  us  on  the  road,  some 
some  time  ago,  I  called,  in  our  language, 
to  my  neighbour,  to  come  out  of  the 
way,  and  he  understood  what  I  said,  for 
he  immediately  turned  round  and  looked 
at  us."  At  this  moment,  one  of  my 
daughters,  about  seven  years  of  age, 
repeated,  in  their  hearing,  the  Gipsy 
word  for  pot,  having  picked  it  up  from 
hearing  me  mention  it.  The  young 
Tinklers  now  thought  they  were  in  the 
midst  of  a  Gipsy  family,  and  seemed 
quite  happy.  "  But  are  you  really  a 
Nawken?  "  I  asked  the  eldest  of  them. 
"  Yes,  sir,"  he  replied  ;  "  and  to  show 
you  I  am  no  impostor,  I  will  give  you 
the  names  of  everything  in  your  house  ;" 
which,  in  the  presence  of  my  family,  he 
did,  to  the  extent  I  asked  of  him!  "  My 
speech,"  he  continued,  "  is  not  the  cant 
of  packmen,  nor  the  slang  of  common 
thieves  "  (p.  302).  Without  entering 
into  any  preliminary  conversation,  for 
the  purpose  of  smoothing  the  way  for 
more  direct  questions,  I  took  him  into 


140 


MR.  BORRO  W  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


my  parlour,  and  at  once  inquired  if  he 
could  speak  the  Tinkler  language  ?  He 
applied  to  my  question  the  construction 
that  I  doubted  if  he  could,  and  the  con- 
sequences which  that  would  imply,  and 
answered  firmly,  "  Yes,  sir ;  I  have  been 
bred  in  that  line  all  my  life."  "  Will 
you  allow  me,"  said  I,  "  to  write  down 
your  words  ?  "  "  O  yes,  sir  ;  you  are 
welcome  to  as  many  as  you  please." 
"  Have  you  names  for  everything,  and 
can  you  converse  on  any  subject,  in  that 
language  ?  "  "  Yes,  sir  ;  we  can  con- 
verse, and  have  a  name  for  everything1, 
in  our  own  speech"  (p. 304).  Like  the  Gip- 
sy woman  with  wh&m  I  had  no  less  than 
seven  years'  trouble  ere  getting  any  of 
her  speech,  this  Gipsy  lad  became,  in 
about  an  hour's  time,  very  restless,  and 
impatient  to  be  gone.  The  true  state 
of  things,  in  this  instance,  dawned  upon 
his  mind.  He  now  became  much 
alarmed,  and  would  neither  allow  me 
to  write  down  his  songs,  nor  stop  to 
give  me  any  more  of  his  words  and  sen- 
tences. His  terror  was  only  exceeded 
by  his  mortification  ;  and  on  parting 
with  me,  he  said  that,  had  he  at  first 
been  aware  I  was  unacquainted  with 
his  speech,  he  would  not  have  given  me 
a  word  of  it  (p.  306). 

Like  the  Gipsy  chief,  in  presence  of 
Dr.  Bright,  at  Csurgo,  in  Hungary,  she 
in  a  short  time  became  impatient ;  and, 
apparently  when  a  certain  hour  arrived, 
she  insisted  upon  being  allowed  to  de- 
part. She  would  not  submit  to  be  ques- 
tioned any  longer  (p.  298). 

This  family,  like  all  their  race,  now  be- 
came much  alarmed  at  their  communica- 
tions ;  and  it  required  considerable  trou- 
ble on  my  part  to  allay  their  fears.  The 
old  man  was  in  the  greatest  anguish  of 
mind  at  having  committed  himself  at  all 
relative  to  his  speech.  I  was  very  sorry 
for  his  distress,  and  renewed  my  pro- 
mise not  to  publish  his  name,  or  place 
of  residence,  assuring  him  he  had  noth- 
ing to  fear  (p.  317). 

When  I  inquired  of  the  eldest  girl  the 
English  of  Jucal,  she  did  not,  at  first, 
catch  the  sound  of  the  word  ;  but  her 
little  sister  looked  up  in  her  face  and 
said  to  her,  "  Don't  you  hear  ?  That  is 
dog.  It  is  dog  he  means."  The  other 
then  added,  with  a  downcast  look,  and 
a  melancholy  tone  of  voice,  "  You  gentle- 
men understand  all  languages  now-a- 
days  "  (p.  293). 

A    gentleman,   an    acquaintance    of 


mine,  was  in  my  presence  while  the  chil- 
dren were  answering  my  words  ;  and  as 
the  subject  of  their  language  was  new 
to  him,  I  made  some  remarks  to  him  in 
their  hearing,  relative  to  their  tribe, 
which  greatly  displeased  them.  One  of 
the  boys  called  out  to  me,  with  much 
bitterness  of  expression,  "You  are  a 
Gipsy  yourself,  sir,  or  you  never  could 
have  got  these  words  "  (p.  293). 

It  is  a  thing  well-nigh  impossible,  to 
get  a  respectable  Scottish  Gipsy  to  ac- 
knowledge even  a  word  of  the  Gipsy 
language.  On  meeting  with  a  respect- 
able— Scotchman,  I  will  call  him — in  a 
company,  lately,  I  was  asked  by  him, 
"Are  ye  a*  Tinklers  ?  "  "  We're  travel- 
lers," I  replied.  "  But  who  is  he  ?  "  he 
continued,  pointing  to  my  acquaintance. 


Going  up  to  him,  I  whispered,  "  His 
dade  is  a  baurie grye-femler ''  (his  father 
is  a  great  horse-dealer)  ;  and  he  made 


for  the  door,  as  if  a  bee  had  got  into 
his  ear.  But  he  came  back ;  oh,  yes, 
he  came  back.  There  was  a  mysterious 
whispering  of  "  pistols  and  coffee,"  at 
another  time  (Ed.,  p.  432). 

Publish  their  language  !  Give  to  the 
world  that  which  they  had  kept  to  them- 
selves, with  so  much  solicitude,  so  much 
tenacity,  so  much  fidelity,  for  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  !  A  parallel  to 
such  a  phenomenon  cannot  be  found 
within  the  whole  range  of  history 
(p.  318). 

Smith,  in  his  Hebrew  People,  writes  : — 
"  The  Jews  had  almost  lost,  in  the 
seventy  years'  captivity,  their  original 
language  ;  that  was  now  become  dead  ; 
and  they  spoke  a  jargon  made  up  of 
their  own  language  and  that  of  the 
Chaldeans,  and  other  nations  with 
whom  they  had  mingled.  Formerly, 
preachers  had  only  explained  subjects ; 
now,  they  were  obliged  to  explain 
words ;  words  which,  in  the  sacred 
code,  were  become  obsolete,  equivocal, 
dead"  (Ed.,  p.  318). 

When  we  consider,  on  strictly  philo- 
sophical principles,  the  phenomenon  of 
the  perpetuation  of  the  Gipsy  language, 
we  will  find  that  there  is  nothing  so 
very  wonderful  about  it  after  all.  The 
race  have  always  associated  closely 
and  exclusively  together  ;  and  their  lan- 
guage has  become  to  them  like  the 
worship  of  a  household  god — hereditary, 
and  is  spoken  among  themselves  under 
the  severest  of  discipline  (Ed.,  p.  24). 


THE  UNIVERSALITY  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 


141 


The  following  facts  will  explain 
the  idea  the  Gipsies  have  of  the  uni- 
versality of  their  race  : — 

A  word  upon  the  universality  of  the 
Gipsies.  English  Gipsies,  on  arriving 
in  America,  feel  quite  taken  aback,  on 
coming  across  a  tent  or  wigwam  of  In- 
dians. "  Didn't  you  feel,"  said  I  to 
some  of  them,  "  very  like  a  dog  when  he 
comes  across  another  dog,  a  stranger  to 
him  ?  "  And  with  a  laugh,  they  said, 
"Exactly  so."  After  looking  awhile  at 
the  Indians,  they  will  approach  them, 
and  "  cast  their  sign,  and  salute  them 
in  Gipsy  ;"  and  if  no  response  is  made, 
they  will  pass  on.  They  then  come  to 
learn  who  the  Indians  are.  The  same 
curiosity  is  excited  among  the  Gipsies 
on  meeting  with  the  American  farmer, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  or  Mis- 
souri ;  who,  in  travelling  to  market,  in 
the  summer,  will,  to  save  expenses,  un- 
yoke his  horses,  at  mid-day  or  evening, 
at  the  edge  of  the  forest,  light  his  fire, 
and  prepare  his  meal.  What  with  the 
"  kettle  and  tented  wagon,"  the  tall, 
lank,  bony,  and  swarthy  appearance  of 
the  farmer,  the  Gipsy  will  approach  him, 
as  he  did  the  Indian  ;  and  pass  on,  when 
no  response  is  made  to  his  sign  and 
salutation.  Under  such  circumstances, 
the  Gipsy  would  cast  his  sign,  and  give 
his  salutation,  whether  on  the  banks  of 
the  Mississippi  or  the  Ganges.  Nay,  a 
very  respectable  Scottish  Gipsy  boasted 
to  me,  that  by  his  signs  alone,  he  could 
push  his  way  to  the  wall  of  China,  and 
even  through  China  itself.  And  there 
are  doubtless  Gipsies  in  China.  Mr. 
Borrow  says,  that  when  he  visited  the 
tribe  at  Moscow,  they  supposed  him  to 
be  one  of  their  brothers,  who,  they 
said,  were  wandering  about  in  Turkey, 
China,  and  other  parts.  It  is  very 
likely  that  Russian  Gipsies  have  visit- 
ed China,  by  the  route  taken  by  Rus- 
sian traders,  and  met  with  Gipsies 
there.*  But  it  tickles  the  Gipsy  most, 
when  it  is  insinuated,  that  if  Sir  John 
Franklin  had  been  fortunate  in  his  expe- 
dition, he  would  have  found  a  Gipsy  tin- 

*  Bell,  in  an  account  of  his  journey  to 
Pekin  [17*1],  says  that  upwards  of  sixty 
Gipsies  had  arrived  at  Tobolsky,  on  their 
way  to  China,  but  were  stopped  by  the 
Vice-governor,  for  want  of  passports. 
They  had  roamed,  during  the  summer 
season,  from  Poland,  in  small  parties, 
subsisting  by  selling  trinkets,  and  telling 
fortunes  (Ed.,  p.  430). 


kering  a  kettle  at  the  North  Pole  (Ed., 
p.  430). 

The  particulars  of  a  meeting  between 
English  and  American  Gipsies  are  in- 
teresting. Some  English  Gipsies  were 
endeavouring  to  sell  some  horses  in  An- 
napolis, in  the  State  of  Maryland,  to  what 
had  the  appearance  of  being  respect- 
able American  farmers  ;  who,  however, 
spoke  to  each  other  in  the  Gipsy  lan- 
guage, dropping  a  word  now  and  then, 
such  as  "  this  is  a  good  one,"  and  so  on. 
The  English  Gipsies  felt  amazed,  and  at 
last  said,  "  What  is  that  you  are  say- 
ing? Why,  you  are  Gipsies  !"  Upon 
this,  the  Americans  wheeled  about,  and 
left  the  spot  as  fast  as  they  could.  Had 
the  English  Gipsies  taken  after  the  Gip- 
sy in  their  appearance,  they  would  not 
have  caused  such  a  consternation  to 
their  American  brethren,  who  showed 
much  of  "  the  blood  "  in  their  counte- 
nances ;  but  as,  from  their  blood  being 
much  mixed,  they  did  not  look  like  Gip- 
sies, they  gave  the  others  a  terrible 
fright,  on  their  being  found  out.  The 
English  Gipsies  said  they  felt  disgusted 
at  the  others  not  acknowledging  them- 
selves. But  I  told  them  they  ought 
rather  to  have  felt  proud  of  the  Ameri- 
cans speaking  Gipsy,  as  it  was  the  pre- 
judice of  the  world  that  led  them  to 
hide  their  nationality.  On  making  in- 
quiry in  the  neighbourhood,  they  found 
that  these  American  Gipsies  had  been 
settled  there  since,  at  least,  the  time  of 
their  grandfather,  and  that  they  bore  an 
English  name  (Ed.,  p.  431). 

I  accidentally  got  into  conversation 
with  an  Irishman,  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  about  secret  societies,  when  he 
mentioned  that  he  was  a  member  of  a 
great  many  such,  indeed,  "all  of  them," 
as  he  expressed  it.  I  said  there  was 
one  society  of  which  he  was  not  a  mem- 
ber, when  he  began  to  enumerate  them, 
and  at  last  came  to  the  Zincali.  "  What," 
said  I,  "  are  you  a  member  of  this  so- 
ciety ?  "  "  Yes,"  said  he  ;  "the  Zincali, 
or  Gipsy/'  He  then  told  me  that  there 
are  many  members  of  this  society  in 
the  city  of  New  York ;  not  all  members 
of  it,  under  that  name,  but  of  its  out- 
posts, if  I  may  so  express  it.  The  prin- 
cipal or  Arch-gipsy  for  the  city,  he  said, 

was  a  merchant,  in street,  who  had 

in  his  possession  a  printed  vocabulary 
or  dictionary  of  the  language,  which 
was  open  only  to  the  most  thoroughly 
initiated.  In  the  course  of  our  conver- 


142 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


sation,  it  fell  out  that  the  native  Ame- 
rican Gipsy  referred  to  at  page  420  was 
one  of  the  thoroughly  initiated ;  which 
circumstance  explained  a  question  he 
had  put  to  me,  and  which  I  evaded,  by 
saying  that  I  was  not  in  the  habit  of 
telling  tales  out  of  school. 

In  Spain,  as  we  have  seen,  a  Gipsy 
taught  her  language  to  her  son  from  a 
MS.  I  doubt  not  there  are  MS.,  if  not 
printed,  vocabularies  of  the  Gipsy  lan- 
guage among  the  tribe  in  Scotland,  as 
well  as  in  other  countries  (Ed.,  p.  438). 

The  destiny  of  the  Gipsies  is  thus 
considered  in  the  following  ex- 
tracts : — 

What  is  to  be  the  future  of  the  Gipsy 
race  ?  A  reply  to  this  question  will  be 
found  in  the  history  of  it  during  the 
past,  as  described  ;  for  it  resolves  itself 
into  two  very  simple  matters  of  fact.  In 
the  first  place,  we  have  a  foreign  race, 
deemed  by  itself  to  be,  as  indeed  it  is, 
universal,  introduced  into  Scotland,  for 
example,  taken  root  there,  spread  and 
flourished ;  a  race  that  rests  upon  a 
basis  the  strongest  imaginable.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  is  the  prejudice  of 
caste  towards  the  name,  which  those 
bearing  it  escape  only  by  assuming  an 
incognito  among  their  fellow-creatures. 
These  two  principles,  acting  upon  be- 
ings possessing  the  feelings  of  men,  will, 
of  themselves,  produce  that  state  of 
things  which  will  constitute  the  history 
of  the  Gipsies  during  all  time  coming, 
whatever  may  be  the  changes  that  may 
come  over  their  character  and  condi- 
tion. They  may,  in  course  of  time,  lose 
their  language,  as  some  of  them,  to  a 
great  extent,  have  done  already ;  but 
they  will  always  retain  a  consciousness 
of  being  Gipsies.  The  language  may 
be  lost,  but  their  signs  will  remain,  as 
well  as  so  much  of  their  speech  as  will 
serve  the  purpose  of  pass-words. 
"  There  is  something  there,"  said  an 
English  Gipsy  of  intelligence,  smiting 
his  breast;  "there  is  something  there 
which  a  Gipsy  cannot  explain."  And, 
said  a  Scottish  Gipsy,  "  It  will  never  be 
forgotten  ;  as  long  as  the  world  lasts, 
the  Gipsies  will  be  Gipsies."  What 
idea  can  be  more  preposterous  than  that 
of  saying,  that  a  change  of  residence  or 
occupation,  or  a  little  more  or  less  of 
education  or  wealth,  or  a  change  of 
.character  or  creed,  can  eradicate  such 
feelings  from  the  heart  of  a  Gipsy  ;  or 
that  these  circumstances  can,  by  any 


human  possibility,  change  his  descent* 
his  tribe,  or  the  blood  that  is  in  his 
body?  How  can  we  imagine  this  race, 
arriving  in  Europe  so  lately  as  the  fif- 
teenth century,  and  in  Scotland  the 
century  following,  with  an  origin  so  dis- 
tinct from  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  so 
treated  by  the  world,  can  possibly  have 
lost  a  consciousness  of  nationality  in  its 
descent,  in  so  short  a  time  after  arrival  ; 
or,  that  that  can  happen  in  the  future, 
when  there  are  so  many  circumstances 
surrounding  it  to  keep  alive  a  sense  of 
its  origin,  and  so  much  within  it  to  pre- 
serve its  identity  in  the  history  of  the 
human  family  ?  Let  the  future  history 
of  the  world  be  what  it  may,  Gipsydom 
is  immortal. — This  sensation  in  the 
minds  of  the  Gipsies,  of  the  perpetuity 
of  their  race,  creates,  in  a  great  mea- 
sure, its  immortality.  Paradoxical  as  it 
may  appear,  the  way  to  preserve  the  ex- 
istence of  a  people  is  to  scatter  it,  pro- 
vided, however,  that  it  is  a  race  thorough- 
ly distinct  from  others,  to  commence 
with.  When,  by  the  force  of  circum- 
stances, it  has  fairly  settled  down  into 
the  idea  that  it  is  a  people,  those  living 
in  one  country  become  conscious  of  its 
existence  in  others  ;  and  hence  arises 
the  principal  cause  of  the  perpetuity  of 
its  existence  as  a  scattered  people  (Ed., 
p.  441). 

It  would  be  well  for  the  reader  to 
consider  what  a  Gipsy  is,  irrespective  of 
the  language  which  he  speaks  ;  for  the 
race  comes  before  the  speech  which  it 
uses.  That  will  be  done  fully  in  my 
Disquisition  on  the  Gipsies.  The  lan- 
guage, considered  in  itself,  however  in- 
teresting it  may  be,  is  a  secondary  con- 
sideration ;  it  may  ultimately  disappear, 
while  the  people  who  now  speak  it  will 
remain  (Ed.,  p.  292). 

Some  Gipsies  can,  of  course,  speak 
Gipsy  much  better  than  others.  It  is 
most  unlikely  that  the  Scottish  Gipsies, 
with  the  head,  the  pride,  and  the  tena- 
city of  native  Scotch,  would  be  the  first 
to  forget  the  Gipsy  language.  The  sen- 
timents of  the  people  themselves  are 
very  emphatic  on  that  head.  "  It  will 
never  be  forgotten,  sir;  it  is  in  our 
hearts,  and,  as  long  as  a  single  Tinkler 
exists,  it  will  be  remembered "  (p. 
297).  "So  long  as  there  existed  two 
Gipsies  in  Scotland,  it  would  never  be 
lost"  (p.  316).  The  English  Gipsies 
admit  that  the  language  is  more  easily 
preserved  in  a  settled  life,  but  more  use- 
ful to  travelling  and  out-door  Gipsies  ; 


DIFFERENCE  IN  MIXED  GIPSIES  AND  ORDINAR  Y  NA  TIVES, 


143 


and  that  it  is  carefully  kept  up  by  both 
classes  of  Gipsies.  This  information 
agrees  with  our  author's,  in  regard  to 
the  settled  Scottish  Gipsies.  There  is 
one  very  strong  motive,  among  many, 
for  the  Gipsies  keeping  up  their  lan- 
guage, and  that  is,  as  I  have  already 
said,  their  self-respect.  The  best  of 
them  believe  that  it  is  altogether  prob- 
lematical how  they  would  be  received  in 
society,  were  they  to  make  an  avowal  of 
their  being  Gipsies,  and  lay  bare  the 
history  of  their  race  to  the  world.  The 
prejudice  that  exists  against  the  race, 
and  against  them,  they'  imagine,  were 
they  known  to  be  Gipsies,  drives  them 
back  on  that  language  which  belongs 
exclusively  to  themselves  ;  to  say  no- 
thing of  the  dazzling  hold  which  it  takes 
of  their  imagination,  as  they  arrive  at 
years  of  reflection,  and  consider  that  the 
people  speaking  it  have  been  trans- 
planted from  some  other  clime.  The 
more  intelligent  the  Gipsy,  the  more  he 
thinks  of  his  speech,  and  the  more  care 
he  takes  of  it  (Ed.,  p.  433). 

The  difference  between  the  Gip- 
sies of  mixed  blood  and  the  ordi- 
nary natives  of  the  country  is  thus 
illustrated : — 

Besides  the  difference  just  drawn  be- 
tween the  Gipsy  and  ordinary  native — 
that  of  recognizing  and  being  recog- 
nized by  another  Gipsy — I  may  mention 
the  following  general  distinction  be- 
tween them.  The  ordinary  Scot  knows 
that  he  is  a  Scot,  and  nothing  more,  un- 
less it  be  something  about  his  ancestors 
of  two  or  three  generations.  But  the 
Gipsy's  idea  of  Scotland  goes  back  to  a 
certain  time,  indefinite  to  him,  as  it  may 
be,  beyond  which  his  race  had  no  exist- 
ence in  the  country.  Where  his  ances- 
tors sojourned,  immediately,  or  at  any 
time,  before  they  entered  Scotland,  he 
cannot  tell ;  but  this  much  he  knows  of 
them,  that  they  are  neither  Scottish  nor 
European,  but  that  they  came  from  the 
East.  The  fact  of  his  blood  being  mix- 
ed exercises  little  or  no  influence  over 
his  feelings  relative  to  his  tribe,  for,  mix- 
ed as  it  may  be,  he  knows  that  he  is  one 
of  the  tribe,  and  that  the  origin  of  his 
tribe  is  his  origin.  In  a  word,  he  knows 
that  he  has  sprung  from  the  tent.  Sub- 
stitute the  word  Scotch  for  Moor,  as  re- 
lated of  the  black  African  Gipsies,  at 
page  429,  and  he  may  say  of  himself  and 
tribe,  "We  are  not  Scotch,  but  can  give 


no  account  of  ourselves."  *  It  is  a  little 
different,  if  the  mixture  of  his  blood  is 
of  such  recent  date  as  to  connect  him 
with  native  families  ;  in  that  case,  he  Jias 
"  various  bloods  "  to  contend  for,  should 
they  be  assailed ;  but  his  Gipsy  blood, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  takes  precedence. 
By  marrying  into  the  tribe,  the  connex- 
ion with  such  native  families  gradually 
drops  out  of  the  memory  of  his  descend- 
ants, and  leaves  the  sensation  of  tribe 
exclusively  Gipsy.  Imagine,  then,  that 
the  Gipsy  has  been  reared  a  Gipsy,  in 
the  way  so  frequently  described,  and 
that  he  "knows  all  about  the  Gipsies," 
while  the  ordinary  native  knows  really 
nothing  about  them  ;  and  we  have  a 
general  idea  of  what  a  Scottish  Gipsy 
is,  as  distinguished  from  an  ordinary 
Scotchman.  If  we  admit  that  every  native 
Scot  knows  who  he  is,  we  may  readily 
assume  that  every  Scottish  Gipsy  knows 
who  he  is.  But,  to  place  the  point  of 
difference  in  a  more  striking  light,  it 
may  be  remarked,  that  the  native  Scot 
will  instinctively  exclaim,  that  "  the  pres- 
ent work  has  no  earthly  relation  either 
to  him  or  his  folk;"  while  the  Scottish 
Gipsy  will  as  instinctively  exclaim,  "  It's 
us,  there's  no  mistake  about  it ; "  and 
will  doubtless  accept  it,  in  the  main, 
with  a  high  degree  of  satisfaction,  as 
the  history  of  his  race,  and  give  it  to  his 
children  as  such  (Ed.,  p.  461). 

A  respectable,  indeed,  any  kind  of, 
Scottish  Gipsy  does  not  contemplate  his 
ancestors— the  "  Pilgrim  Fathers,"  and 
"Pilgrim  Mothers,"  too  —  as  robbers, 
although  he  could  do  that  with  as  much 
grace  as  any  Highland  or  Border  Scot, 
but  as  a  singular  people,  who  doubtless 
came  from  the  Pyramids ;  and  their  lan- 
guage, as  something  about  which  he 
really  does  not  know  what  to  think  ; 
whether  it  is  Egyptian,  Sanscrit,  or  what 
it  is.  Still,  he  has  part  of  it ;  he  loves 
it ;  and  no  human  power  can  tear  it  out 
of  his  heart.  He  knows  that  every  in- 
telligent being  sticks  to  his  own,  and 
clings  to  his  descent';  and  he  considers 
it  his  highest  pride  to  be  an  Egyptian 
— a  descendant  of  those  swarthy  kings 


*  The  tradition  among  the  Scottish 
Gipsies  of  being  Ethiopians,  whatever 
weight  the  reader  may  attach  to  it,  dates 
as  far  back,  at  least,  as  the  year  1615  ;  for 
it  is  mentioned  in  the  remission  under 
the  privy  seal,  granted  to  William  Auch- 
terlony,  of  Cayrine,  for  resetting  John  Faa 
and  his  followers  (Ed.,  p.  315). 


144 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


and  queens,  princes  and  princesses, 
priests  and  priestesses,  and,  "of  course, 
thieves  and  thievesses,  that,  like  an  ap- 
parition, found  their  way  into,  and,  after 
wandering  about,  settled  down  in,  Scot- 
land. '  Indeed,  he  never  knew  anything 
else  than  that  he  was  an  Egyptian  ;  for 
it  is  in  his  blood  ;  and,  what  is  more,  it 
is  in  his  heart,  so  that  he  cannot  forget 
it,  unless  he  should  lose  his  faculties 
and  become  an  idiot ;  and  then  he  would 
be  an  Egyptian  idiot.  How  like  a  Gipsy 
it  was  for  Mrs.  Fall,  of  Dunbar,  to 
"  work  in  tapestry  the  principal  events 
in  the  life  of  the  founder  of  her  family, 
from  the  day  the  Gipsy  child  came  to 
Dunbar,  in  its  mother's  creel,  until  the 
same  Gipsy  child  had  become,  by  its 
own  honourable  exertions,  the  head  of 
the  first  mercantile  establishment  then 
existing  in  Scotland  "  (Ed.,  p.  462). 

The  Scottish  Gipsies,  when  their  ap- 
pearance has  been  modified  by  a  mix- 
ture of  the  white  blood,  have  possessed, 
in  common  with  the  Highlanders,  the 
faculty  of  "  getting  out "  of  the  original 
ways  of  their  race,  and  becoming  supe- 
rior in  character,  notwithstanding  the 
excessive  prejudice  that  exists  against 
the  nation  of  which  they  hold  them- 
selves members.  Except  his  strong  par- 
tiality for  his  blood  and  tribe,  language 
and  signs,  such  a  Gipsy  becomes,  in  his 
general  disposition  and  ways,  like  any 
ordinary  native.  It  is  impossible  that  it 
should  be  otherwise.  Whenever  a  Gip- 
sy, then,  forsakes  his  original  habits, 
and  conforms  with  the  ways  of  the  other 
inhabitants,  he  becomes,  for  all  practi- 
cal purposes,  an  ordinary  citizen  of  the 
Gipsy  clan.  If  he  is  a  man  of  good  nat- 
ural abilities,  the  original  wild  ambition 
of  his  race  acquires  a  new  turn;  and  his 
capacity  fits  him  for  any  occupation. 
Priding  himself  on  being  an  Egyptian,  a 
member  of  this  world-wide  community, 
he  acquires,  as  he  gains  information,  a 
spirit  of  liberality  of  sentiment ;  he  reads 
history,  and  perceives  that  every  family 
of  mankind  has  not  only  been  barbarous, 
but  very  barbarous,  at  one  time  ;  and, 
from  such  reflections,  he  comes  to  con- 
sider his  own  origin,  and  very  readily  be- 
comes confirmed  in  his  early,  but  indis- 
tinct, ideas  of  his  people,  that  they  real- 
ly are  somebody.  Indeed,  he  considers 
himself  not  only  as  good,  but  better  than 
other  people.  His  being  forced  to  as- 
sume an  incognito,  and  "  keep  as  quiet 
as  pussy,"  chafes  his  proud  spirit,  but  it 
does  not  render  him  gloomy,  for  his  nat- 


ural disposition  is  too  buoyant  for  that. 
How,  then,  does  such  a  Scottish  Gipsy 
feel  in  regard  to  his  ancestors?  He 
feels  exactly  as  Highlanders  do,  in  re- 
gard to  theirs,  or,  as  the  Scottish  Bor- 
derers do,  with  reference  to  the  "  Bor- 
der Ruffians,"  as  I  have  heard  a  Gipsy 
term  them.  Indeed,  the  gallows  of 
Perth  and  Stirling,  Carlisle  and  Jed- 
burgh,  could  tell  some  fine  tales  of 
many  respectable  Scottish  people,  in 
times  that  are  past  (Ed.,  p.  462). 

It  is  certainly  a  singular  position 
which  is  occupied,  from  generation  to 
generation,  and  century  to  century,  by 
our  settled  Scottish,  as  well  as  other, 
Gipsies,  who  are  not  known  to  the  world 
as  such,  yet  maintain  a  daily  intercourse 
with  others  not  of  their  own  tribe.  It 
resembles  a  state  of  semi-damnation, 
with  a  drawn  sword  hanging  over  their 
heads,  ready  to  fall  upon  them  at  any 
moment.  But  the  matter  cannot  be 
mended.  They  are  Gipsies,  by  every 
physical  and  mental  necessity,  and  they 
accommodate  themselves  to  their  cir- 
cumstances as  they  best  may.  This 
much  is  certain,  that  they  have  the  ut- 
most confidence  in  their  incognito,  as 
regards  their  descent,  personal  feelings, 
and  exclusively  private  associations. 
The  word  "Gipsy,"  to  be  applied  to 
them  by  strangers,  frightens  them,  in 
contemplation,  far  more  than  it  does  the 
children  of  the  ordinary  natives  ;  for 
they  imagine  it  a  dreadful  thing  to  be 
known  to  their  neighbours  as  Gipsies. 
Still  they  have  never  occupied  any  other 
position  ;  they  have  been  born  in  it, 
and  reared  in  it ;  it  has  even  been_  the 
nature  of  the  race,  from  the  very  first, 
always  to  "  work  in  the  dark."  In  all 
probability,  it  has  never  occurred  to 
them  to  imagine  that  it  will  ever  be 
otherwise  ;  nor  do  they  evidently  wish 
it  ;  for  they  can  see  no  possible  way  to 
have  themselves  acknowledged,  by  the 
world,  as  Gipsies.  The  very  idea  hor- 
rifies them.  So  far  from  letting  the 
world  know  anything  of  them,  as  Gip- 
sies, their  constant  care  is  to  keep  it  in 
perpetual  darkness  on  the  subject.  Of 
all  men,  these  Gipsies  may  say  :— 

"  .  ,  .  rather  bear  those  ills  \ve  have, 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of." 

Indeed,  the  only  thing  that  worries 
such  a  Gipsy  is  the  idea  that  the  public 
should  know  all  about  him  ;  otherwise, 
he  feels  a  supreme  satisfaction  in  being 
a  Gipsy  ;  as  well  as  in  having  such  a 


DIFFERENCE  IN  MIXED  GIPSIES  AND  ORDINAR  Y  NA  TIVES. 


145 


history  of  his  race  as  I  have  informed 
him  I  proposed  publishing,  provided  I 
do  not  in  any  way  mix  him^  up  with  it, 
or  "  let  him  out."  By  bringing  up  the 
body  in  the  manner  done  in  this  work, 
by  making  a  sweep  of  the  whole  tribe, 
the  responsibility  becomes  spread  over 
a  large  number  of  people  ;  so  that, 
should  the  Gipsy  become,  by  any  means, 
known,  personally,  to  the  world,  he 
would  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
that  he  had  others  to  keep  him  com- 
pany ;  men  occupying  respectable  posi- 
tions in  life,  and  respected,  by  the  world 
at  large,  as  individuals  (Ed.,  p.  464). 

The  difference  of  feeling  between  the 
two  races  at  the  present  day  proceeds 
from  positive  ignorance  on  the  part  of  the 
native  towards  the  other  ;  an  ignorance 
in  which  the  Gipsy  would  rather  allow 
him  to  remain  ;  for,  let  him  turn  him- 
self in  whatever  direction  he  may,  he 
imagines  he  sees,  and  perhaps  does  see, 
nothing  but  a  dark  mountain  of  preju- 
dice existing  between  him  and  every 
other  of  his  fellow-creatures.  He  would 
rather  retain  his  incognito,  and  allow 
his  race  to  go  down  to  posterity  shroud- 
ed in  its  present  mystery  (Ed.,  p.  426). — 
It  necessarily  follows,  that  the  race  must 
remain  shrouded  in  its  present  mystery, 
unless  some  one,  not  of  the  race,  should 
become  acquainted  with  its  history,  and 
speak  for  it  (Ed.,  p.  427). 

In  seeking  for  Gipsies  among  Scotch 
people,  I  know  where  to  begin,  but  it 
puzzles  me  where  to  leave  off.  I  would 
pay  no  regard  to  colour  of  hair  or  eyes, 
character,  employment,  position,  or  in- 
deed any  outward  thing.  The  reader 
may  say  : — "  It  must  be  a  difficult  mat- 
ter to  detect  such  mixed  and  educated 
Gipsies  as  those  spoken  of."  It  is  not 
only  difficult,  but  outwardly  impossible. 
Such  Gipsies  cannot  even  tell  each 
other  from  their  personal  appearance  ; 
but  they  have  signs,  which  they  can  use, 
if  the  others  choose  to  respond  to  them 
(Ed.,  p.  428). 

For  all  these  reasons,  the  most  appro- 
priate word  to  apply  to  modern  Gipsy- 
ism,  and  especially  British  Gipsyism, 
and  more  especially  Scottish  Gipsyism, 
is  to  call  it  a  caste,  and  a  kind  of  ma- 
sonic society,  rather  than  any  particular 
mode  of  life.  And  it  is  necessary  that 
this  distinction  should  be  kept  in  mind, 
otherwise  the  subject  will  appear  con- 
tradictory (Ed.,  p.  12). 
IO 


Consider,  then,  that  the  process  which 
I  have  attempted  to  describe  has  been . 
going  on,  more  or  less,  for  at  least  the 
last  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ;  and 
I  may  well  ask,  where  might  we  ?iof 
expect  to  meet  with  Gipsies,  in  Scotland, 
at  the  present  day  ?  And  I  reply,  that 
we  will  meet  with  them  in  every  sphere 
of  Scottish  life,  not  excepting,  perhaps, 
the  very  highest.  There  are  Gipsies 
among  the  very  best  Edinburgh  families. 
I  am  well  acquainted  with  Scotchmen, 
youths  and  men  of  middle  age,  of  edu- 
cation and  character,  and  who  follow 
very  respectable  occupations,  that  are 
Gipsies,  and  who  admit  that  <hey  are 
Gipsies.  But,  apart  from  my  own 
knowledge,  I  ask,  is  it  not  a  fact,  that 
a  few  years  ago  a  pillar  of  the  Scottish 
Church,  at  Edinburgh,  upon  the  occasion 
of  founding  a  society  for  the  reformation 
of  the  poor  class  of  Scottish  Gipsies, 
and  frequently  thereafter,  said  that  he 
himself  was  a  Gipsy  ?  I  ask,  again,  is 
not  that  a  fact  ?  It  is  a  fact.  And  such 
a  man  !  Such  prayers  !  Such  deep- 
toned,  sonorous  piety  !  Such  candour  ! 
Such  judgment !  Such  amiability  of 
manners  !  How  much  respected  !  How 
worthy  of  respect !  The  good,  the  godly, 
the  saintly  doctor  !  When  will  we  meet 
his  like  again?*  (Ed.  p.  405.) 

The  admission  of  the  good  man 
alluded  to  casts  a  flood  of  light  upon 
the  history  of  the  Scottish  Gipsy  race, 
shrouded  as  it  is  from  the  eye  of  the 
general  population  ;  but  the  information 
given  by  him  was  apt -to  fall  flat  upon 
the  ear  of  the  ordinary  native,  unless  it 
was  accompanied  by  some  such  exposi- 
tion of  the  subject  as  is  given  in  this 
work.  Still,  we  can  gather  from  it, 
where  Gipsies  are  to  be  found,  what  a 
Scottish  Gipsy  is,  and  what  the  race  is 
capable  of;  and  what  might  be  expected 
of  it,  if  the  prejudice  of  their  fellow- 
creatures  was  withdrawn  from  the  race, 
as  distinguished  from  the  various  classes 
into  which  it  may  be  divided,  or,  I 
should  rather  say,  the  personal  conduct 


•  "  Grand  was  the  repose  of  his  lofty 
brow,  dark  eye,  and  aspect  of  soft  and 
melancholy  meaning.  It  was  a  face  from 
which  every  evil  and  earthly  passion 
seemed  purged.  A  deep  gravity  lay  upon 
his  countenance,  which  had  the  solemnity, 
without  the  sternness,  of  one  of  our  old 
reformers.  You  could  almost  fancy  a 
halo  completing  its  apostolic  character." 
(Ed.,  p.  405.) 


146 


MR.  BORROW  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


of  each  Gipsy  individually.  View  the 
subject  any  way  I  may,  I  cannot  resist 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that,  under 
more  favourable  circumstances,  it  is 
difficult  to  say  what  the  Gipsies  might 
not  attain  to.  But  that  would  depend 
greatly  upon  the  country  in  which  they 
are  to  be  found.  Scotland  has  been 
peculiarly  favourable  for  them  in  some 
respects  (Ed.,  p.  415). 

The  prejudice  that  exists  against 
the  Gipsies  has  a  three-fold  effect — 
that  bearing  directly  upon  them, 
and,  notwithstanding  its  depres- 
sing influence,  the  high  opinion  they 
have  of  themselves,  and  the  result 
it  has  of  making  them  "stick  to 
each  other." 

The  peculiar  feeling  that  is  enter- 
tained for  what  is  popularly  understood 
to  be  a  Gipsy  differs  from  that  which  is 
displayed  toward  the  Negro,  in  that  it 
attaches  to  his  traditional  character  and 
mode  of  life  alone.  The  general  preju- 
dice against  the  Negro  is,  to  a  certain 
extent,  natural,  and  what  any  one  can 
realize.  If  the  European  has  a  difficulty 
in  appreciating  the  feeling  which  is  ex- 
hibited by  Americans  against  the  Afri- 
can in  their  general  intercourse  of  daily 
life,  few  Americans  can  realize  the  feel- 
ing which  is  entertained  toward  the 
tented  Gipsy.  Should  such  a  Gipsy  be 
permitted  to  enter  the  dwelling  of  a  na- 
tive, the  most  he  will  let  him  come  in 
contact  with  will  be  the  chair  he  will 
give  him  to  sit  on,  and  the  dish  and 
spoon  out  of  which  he  will  feed  him,  all 
of  which  can  again  be  cleaned.  His 
guest  will  never  weary  his  patience,  ow- 
ing to  the  embodiment  of  restlessness 
which  characterizes  his  race  ;  nor  will 
his  feelings  ever  be  tried  by  his  asking 
him  for  a  bed,  for,  what  the  herb  com- 
monly called  catnip  is  to  the  animal 
somewhat  corresponding  to  that  word, 
a  bundle  of  straw  in  an  out-house  is  to 
the  tented  Gipsy  (Ed.,  p,  54). 

There  is  something  singularly  incon- 
sistent in  the  mind  of  the  Gipsies.  They 
pride  themselves,  to  an  extraordinary 
degree,  in  their  race  and  language ;  at 
the  same  time,  they  are  extremely  sen- 
sitive to  the  prejudice  that  exists  against 
them.  "We  feel,"  say  they,  "that 
every  other  creature  despises  us,  and 
would  crush  us  out  of  existence,  if  it 
could  be  done.  No  doubt  there  are 


things  which  many  of  the  Gipsies  do 
not  hold  to  be  a  shame  that  others  do  ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  they  hold  some 
things  to  be  a  shame  which  others  do 
not.  They  have  many  good  points. 
They  are  kind  to  their  own  people,  and 
will  feed  and  clothe  them,  if  it  is  in  their 
power  ;  and  they  will  not  molest  others 
who  treat  them  civilly.  They  are  some- 
what like  the  wild  American  Indians  : 
they  even  go  so  far  as  to  despise  their 
own  people  who  will  willingly  conform 
to  the  ways  of  the  people  among  whom 
they  live,  even  to  putting  their  heads  un- 
der a  roof.  But,  alas  !  a  hard  necessity 
renders  it  unavoidable  ;  a  necessity  of 
two  kinds— that  of  making  a  living  under 
the  circumstances  in  which  they  find 
themselves  placed,  and  the  impossibility 
of  enforcing  their  laws  among  them- 
selves. Let  them  do  what  they  may, 
live  as  they  may,  believe  what  they  may, 
they  are  looked  upon  as  everything  that 
is  bad.  Yet  they  are  a  people,  an  an- 
cient and  mysterious  people,  that  have 
been  scattered  by  the  will  of  Providence 
over  the  whole  earth."  It  is  to  escape 
this  dreadful  prejudice  that  all  Gipsies, 
excepting  those  who  avowedly  live  and 
profess  themselves  Gipsies,  will  hide 
their  race,  if  they  can,  and  particularly 
so  in  the  case  of  those  who  fairly  leave 
the  tent,  conform  to  the  ordinary  ways 
of  society,  and  engage  in  any  of  its  vari- 
ous callings.  While  being  convoyed 
by  the  son  of  an  English  Gipsy,  whose 
family  I  had  been  visiting,  at  their  house, 
where  I  had  heard  them  freely  speak  of 
themselves  as  Gipsies,  and  converse  in 
Gipsy,  I  said,  in  quite  a  pleasant  tone, 
"  Ah,  my  little  man,  and  you  are  a  young 
Gipsy? — Eh,  what's  the  matter?"  "I 
don't  wish  to  be  known  to  the  people  as 
a  Gipsy."  His  father,  on  another  occa- 
sion, said,  "  We  are  not  ashamed  to  say 
to  a  friend  that  we  are  Gipsies  ;  but 
my  children  don't  like  people  to  be  cry- 
ing after  them,  '  Look  at  the  Gipsies  !'  " 
And  yet  this  family,  like  all  Gipsies, 
were  strongly  attached  to  their  race  and 
language.  It  was  pitiful  to  think  that 
there  was  so  much  reason  for  them  to 
make  such  a  complaint.  On  one  occa- 
sion, I  was  asked,  "  If  you  would  not 
deem  it  presumptuous,  might  we  ask 
you  to  take  a  bite  with  us  ?  "  "  Eat  with 
you?  Why  not  ?"  I  replied.  "What 
will  your  people  think,  if  they  knew  that 
you  had  been  eating  with  us  ?  You  will 
lose  caste."  This  was  said  in  a  serious 
manner,  but  slightly  tinged  with  irony. 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  THE  ANTI-GIPSY  PREJUDICE. 


147 


Bless  me,  I  thought,  are  all  our  Scottish 
Gipsies,  of  high  and  low  degree,  afraid 
that  the  ordinary  natives  would  not  even 
eat  with  them,  if  they  knew  them  to  be 
Gipsies  ?  (Ed.,  p.  362.) 

These  poor  people  were  much  alarmed 
when  I  let  them  see  that  I  knew  they 
were  Gipsies.  They  thought  I  was  de- 
spising them,  and  treating  them  with 
contempt ;  or  they  were  afraid  of  being 
apprehended  under  the  old  sanguinary 
laws,  condemning  the  whole  unfortunate 
race  to  death  ;  for  the  Gipsies,  as  I  have 
already  said,  still  believe  that  these 
bloody  statutes  are  in  full  force  against 
them  at  the  present  day*  (p.  290). 

The  prejudice  of  their  fellow -crea- 
tures, which  clings  to  the  ra£e  to  which 
they  belong,  almost  overwhelms  some 
of  them  at  times  ;  but  it  is  only  momen- 
tary ;  for  such  is  the  independence  and 
elasticity  of  their  nature,  that  they  rise 
from  under  it,  as  self-complacent  and 
proud  as  ever.  They  in  such  cases  re- 

*  Whatever  may  be  the  feeling  on  the 
part  of  the  Gipsies.'at  the  present  day,  in 
regard  to  the  old  Scottish  la\vs,which  never 
were  repealed,  the  following  note  to  the 
Histoiy  of  the  Gipsies  still  holds  good  : — 
"  It  is  interesting  to  notice  the  reason  for 
this  old  Gipsy  chief  being  so  backward  in 
giving  our  author  some  of  his  language. 
>  '  He  was  ashamed  to  do  it.'  Pity  it  is  that 
there  should  be  a  man  in  Scotland,  who, 
independent  of  personal  character,  should 
be  ashamed  of  such  a  thing.  Then,  see 
how  the  Gipsy  woman,  in  our  author's 
house,  said  that  'the  public  would  look 
upon  her  with  horror  and  contempt,  were 
it  known  she  could  speak  the  Gipsy  lan- 
guage.' And  again,  the  two  female  Gip- 
sies, who  would  rather  allow  themselves 
to  be  murdered  than  give  the  meaning  of 
two  Gipsy  words  to  Sauchie  colliers,  for 
the  reason  that  '  it  would  have  exposed 
their  tribe,  and  made  themselves  odious 
to  the  world.'  And  all  for  knowing  the 
Gipsy  language  ! — which  would  be  con- 
sidered an  accomplishment  in  another 
person  !  What  frightful  tyranny  !  Mr. 
Borrow,  as  we  will  by  and'bv  see,  says  a 
great  deal  about  the  law  of  Charles  III., 
in  regard  to  the  prospects  of  the  Spanish 
Gipsies.  But  there  is  a.  law  above  any 
legislative  enactment — the  law  of  society, 
of  one's  fellow-creatures — which  bears  so 
hard  upon  the  Gipsies  ;  the  despotism  of 
caste.  If  Gipsies,  in  such  humble  cir- 
cumstances, are  so  afraid  of  being  known 
to  be  Gipsies,  we  can  form  some  idea  of 
the  morbid  sensitiveness  of  those  in  a 
higher  sphere  of  life"  (Ed  ,  p.  313). 


sort  to  the  ///  quoque — the  tit  for  tat 
argument  as  regards  their  enemies,  and 
ask,  "  What  is  this  white  race,  after  all  ? 
What  were  their  forefathers  a  few  gen- 
erations ago  ?  the  Highlands  a  nest  of 
marauding  thieves,  and  the  Borders 
little  better.  Or  society  at  the  present 
day — what  is  it  but  a  compound  of  de- 
ceit and  hypocrisy  ?  People  say  that 
the  Gipsies  steal.  True  ;  some  of  them 
steal  chickens,  vegetables,  and  such 
things  ;  but  what  is  that,  compared  to 
the  robbery  of  widows  and  orphans,  the 
lying  and  cheating  of  traders,  the  swin- 
dling, the  robberies,  the  murders,  the  ig- 
norance, the  squalor,  and  the  debauch- 
eries of  so  many  of  the  white  race? 
What  are  all  these,  compared  to  the 
simple  vices  of  the  Gipsies  ?  What  is 
the  ancestry  they  boast  of,  compared 
in  point  of  antiquity  to  ours  ?  People 
may  despise  the  Gipsies,  but  they  cer- 
tainly despise  all  others  not  of  their  own 
race  :  the  veriest  beggar  Gipsy,  without 
shoes  to  his  feet,  considers  himself  bet- 
ter than  the  queen  that  sits  upon  the 
throne.  People  say  that  Gipsies  are 
blackguards.  Well,  if  some  of  them  are 
blackguards,  they  are  at  least  illustrious 
blackguards  as  regards  descent,  and  so 
in  fact ;  for  they  never  rob  each  other, 
and  far  less  do  they  rob  or  ruin  those  of 
their  own  family."  And  they  conclude 
that  the  odium  which  clings  to  the  race 
is  but  a  prejudice  (Ed.,  p.  n). 

With  regard  to  the  general  politics  of 
the  Scottish  Gipsies,  if  they  entertain 
any  political  sentiments  at  all,  I  am  con- 
vinced they  are  monarchical ;  and  that 
were  any  revolutionary  convulsion  to 
loosen  the  bonds  of  society,  and  sepa- 
rate the  lower  from  the  higher  classes, 
they  would  take  to  the  side  of  the  supe- 
rior portion  of  the  community.  They 
have,  at  all  times,  heartily  despised  the 
peasantry,  and  been  disposed  to  treat 
menials  with  great  contempt,  though,  at 
the  very  moment,  they  were  begging  at 
the  doors  of  their  masters.  In  the  few 
instances  which  have  come  to  my  know- 
ledge, of  Scottish  Gipsies  forming  matri- 
monial connexions  with  individuals  of 
the  community,  those  individuals  were 
not  of  the  working  or  lower  classes  of 
society  (p.  366).  Indeed,  they  were  al- 
ways much  disposed  to  treat  farm-ser- 
vants with  contempt,  as  quite  their  in- 
feriors in  the  scale  of  society;  and  al- 
ways boasted  of  their  own  high  birth, 
and  the  antiquity  of  their  family  (p.  225). 

What  our  author  says  of  the  politics 


148 


MR.  BORRO  W  ON  THE  GIPSIES. 


of  the  Gipsies  is  rather  more  applicable 
to  their  ideas  of  their  social  position. 
Being  a  small  body  in  comparison  with 
the  general  population  of  the  country, 
they  entertain  a  very  exclusive,  and  con- 
sequently a  very  aristocratic  idea  of 
themselves,  whatever  others  may  think 
of  them  ;  and  therefore  scorn  the  preju- 
dice of  the  very  lowest  order  of  the  com- 
mon natives  (Ed.,  p.  367). 

Many  of  the  Gipsies,  following  the 
various  occupations  enumerated,  are  not 
now  to  be  distinguished  from  others  of 
the  community,  except  by  the  most  min- 
ute observation  ;  yet  they  appear  a  dis- 
tinct and  separate  people  ;  seldom  con- 
tracting marriage  out  of  their  own  tribe. 
A  tradesman  of  Gipsy  blood  will  sooner 
give  his  hand  to  a  lady's  maid  of  his 
own  race,  than  marry  the  highest  female 
in  the  land  ;  while  the  Gipsy  lady's  maid 
will  take  a  Gipsy  shoemaker,  in  prefer- 
ence to  any  one  out  of  her  tribe.  A 
Gipsy  woman  will  far  rather  prefer,  in 
marriage,  a  man  of  her  own  blood  who 
has  escaped  the  gallows,  to  the  most 
industrious  and  best -behaved  trades- 
man in  the  kingdom.  Like  the  Jews, 
almost  all  those  in  good  circumstances 
marry  among  themselves,  and,  I  believe, 
employ  their  poorer  brethren  as  ser- 
vants. I  have  known  Gipsies  most  sol- 
emnly declare,  that  no  consideration 
would  induce  them  to  marry  out  of  their 
own  tribe  ;  and  I  am  informed,  and  con- 
vinced, that  almost  every  one  of  them 
marries  in  that  way.  One  of  them  stated 
to  me  that,  let  the'm  be  in  whatever  sit- 
uation of  life  they  may,  they  all  "  stick 
to  each  other  "  (p.  369). 

In  the  Disquisition  on  the  Gipsies 
I  said  that,  "  It  is  beyond  doubt 
that  there  cannot  be  less  than  a 
quarter  of  a  million  of  Gipsies  in 
the  British  Isles,  who  are  living 
under  a  grinding  despotism  of 
caste ;  a  despotism  so  absolute  and 
odious,  that  the  people  upon  whom 
it  bears  cannot,  as  in  Scotland,  were  it 
almost  to  save  their  lives,  even  say  who 
they  are  !"  (p.  440):  and  that,  "  This 
peculiar  family  of  mankind  has  been 
fully  three  centuries  and  a  half  in 
the  country,  and  it  is  high  time  that 
it  should  be  acknowledged,  in  some 
form  or  other ;  high  time,  certainly, 
that  we  should  know  something 
about  it  "  (p.  529).  In  dealing  with 


a  question  like  this,  the  main  thing 
to  be  done  is  to  establish  a  principle, 
such  as  will  be  explained  in  ihe  fol- 
lowing article  on  the  Social  Emanci- 
pation of  the  Gipsies.  Here  I  will 
add  some  extracts  from  the  Disqui- 
sition on  the  Gipsies  on  the  improve- 
ment of  the  race  generally. 

As  regards  the  improvement  of  the 
Gipsies,  I  would  make  the  following 
suggestions  : — The  facts  and  principles 
of  the  present  work  should  be  thorough- 
ly canvassed  and  imprinted  on  the  pub- 
lic mind,  and  an  effort  made  to  bring, 
if  possible,  our  high-class  Gipsies  to 
acknowledge  themselves  to  be  Gipsies. 
The  fact  of  these  Gipsies  being  received 
into  society,  and  respected  as  Gipsies 
(as  it  is  with  'them  at  present,  as  men), 
could  not  fail  to  have  a  wonderful  effect 
upon  many  of  the  humble,  ignorant,  or 
wild  ones.  They  would  perceive,  at 
once,  that  the  objections  which  the 
community  had  to  them  proceeded,  not 
from  their  being  Gipsies,  but  from  their 
habits  only.  What  is  the  feeling  which 
Gipsies,  who  are  known  to  be  Gipsies, 
have  for  the  public  at  large  ?  The  white 
race,  as  a  race,  is  simply  odious  to 
them,  for  they  know  well  the  dreadful 
prejudice  which  it  bears  towards  them. 
But  let  some  of  their  own  race,  however 
mixed  the  blood  might  be,  be  respected 
as  Gipsies,  and  it  would,  in  a  great 
measure,  break  down,  at  least  in  feel- 
ing, the  wall  of  caste  which  separates 
them  from  the  community  at  large.  This 
is  the  first,  the  most  important,  step  to 
be  taken  to  improve  the  Gipsies,  what- 
ever may  be  the  class  to  which  they  be- 
long. Let  the  prejudice  be  removed, 
and  it  is  impossible  to  say  what  might 
not  follow.  Before  attempting  to  reform 
the  Gipsies,  we  ought  to  reform,  or  at 
least  inform,  mankind  in  regard  to 
them ;  and  endeavour  to  reconcile  the 
world  to  them  before  we  attempt  to  re- 
concile them  to  the  world ;  and  treat 
them  as  men  before  we  try  to  make 
them  Christians.  The  poor  Gipsies 
know  well  that  there  are  many  of  their 
race  occupying  respectable  positions  in 
life  ;  perhaps  they  do  not  know  many, 
or  even  any,  of  them  personally,  but 
they  believe  in  it  thoroughly.  Still  they 
will  deny  it,  at  least  hide  it  from  stran- 
gers, for  this  reason,  among  others,  that 
it  is  a  state  to  which  their  children,  or 
even  they  themselves,  look  forward,  as 
ultimately  awaiting  them,  in  which  they 


THE  IMPROVEMENT  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 


149 


will  manage  to  escape  from  the  odium 
of  their  fellow-creatures,  which  clings 
to  them  in  their  present  condition.  The 
fact  of  the  poor  travelling  Gipsies  know- 
ing of  such  respectable  settled  Gipsies, 
gives  them  a  certain  degree  of  respect 
in  their  own  eyes,  which  leads  them  to 
repel  any  advance  from  the  other  race, 
let  it  come  in  almost  whatever  shape  it 
may.  The  white  race,  as  I  have  already 
said,  is  perfectly  odious  to  them.*  This 
is  exactly  the  position  of  the  question. 
The  more  original  kind  of  Gipsies  feel 
that  the  prejudice  which  exists  against  the 
race  to  which  they  belong  is  such,  that 
an  intercourse  cannot  be  maintained  be- 
tween them  and  the  other  inhabitants  ; 
or,  if  it  does  exist,  it  is  of  so  clandestine 
a  nature,  that  their  appearance,  and,  it 
may  be,  their  general  habits,  do  not  al- 
low or  lead  them  to  indulge  in  it.  I 
will  make  a  few  more  remarks  on  this 
subject  further  on  in  this  treatise  (Ed., 
p.  436). 

The  latter  part  of  the  Gipsy  nation, 
whether  settled  or  itinerant,  must  be 
reached  indirectly,  for  reasons  which 

*  People  often  reprobate  the  dislike,  I 
may  say  the  hatred,  which  the  more  origi- 
nal Gipsy  entertains  for  society ;  forget- 
ting that  society  itself  has  had  the  greatest 
share  in  the  origin  of  it.  When  the  race 
entered  Europe,  they  are  not  presumed 
to  have  had  any  hatred  towards  their  fel- 
low-creatures. That  hatred,  doubtless, 
sprang  from  the  severe  reception  and 
universal  persecution  which,  owing  to  the 
singularity  of  their  race  and  habits,  they 
everywhere  met  with.  The  race  then  be- 
came born  into  that  state  of  things.  What 
would  subsequent  generations  know  of 
the  origin  of  the  feud  ?  All  that  they 
knew  was  that  the  law  made  them  out- 
laws and  outcasts  ;  that  they  were  sub- 
ject, as  Gipsies,  to  be  hung  before  they 
were  born.  Such  a  Gipsy  might  be  com- 
pared to  Pascal's  man  springing  up  out 
of  an  island  :  casting  his  eyes  around  him, 
he  finds  nothing  but  a  legal  and  social 
proscription  hanging  over  his  head,  in 
whatever  direction  he  may  turn.  What- 
ever might  be  assumed  to  have  been  the 
original,  innate  disposition  of  a  Gipsy, 
circumstances  attending  him,  from  his 
birth  to  his  death,  were  certainly  not  cal- 
culated to  improve  him,  but  to  make  him 
much  worse  than  he  might  otherwise 
have  been.  The  worst  that  can  be  said  of 
the  Scottish  Gipsies,  in  times  past,  has 
been  stated  by  our  author.  With  all  their 
faults,  we  find  a  vein  of  genuine  nobility 
of  character  running  through  all  their  ac- 


have  already  been  given  ;  for  it  does  not 
serve  much  purpose  to  interfere  too  di- 
rectly with  them,  as  Gipsies.  We  should 
bring  a  reflective  influence-  to  bear  upon 
them,  by  holding  up  to  their  observa- 
tion some  of  their  own  race  in  respect- 
able positions  in  life,  and  respected  by 
the  world,  as  men,  though  not  known 
to  be  Gipsies.  For,  in  this  way,  the 
Gipsies,  of  all  classes,  would  see  that 
they  are  not  outcasts  ;  but  that  the  pre- 
judices which  people  entertain  for  them 
are  applicable  to  their  ways  of  life  only, 
and  not  to  their  blood  or  descent,  tribe 
or  language.  Their  hearts  would  then 
become  more  easily  touched,  their  affec- 
tions more  readily  secured  ;  and  the  at- 
tempt made  to  improve  them  would  have 
a  much  better  chance  of  being  successful. 
A  little  judgment  is  necessary  in  con- 
ducting an  intercourse  with  the  wild 
Gipsy,  or,  indeed,  any  kind  of  Gipsy  ;  it 
is  very  advisable  to  speak  well  of  ' '  the 
blood,"  and  never  to  confound  the  race 
with  the  conduct  of  part  of  it.  There  is 
hardly  anything  that  can  give  a  poor 
Gipsy  greater  pleasure  than  to  tell  him 
something  about  his  people,  and  par- 
dons, which  is  the  more  worthy  of  notice, 
considering  that  they  were  at  war  with  soci- 
ety, and  society  at  war  with  them.  Not  the 
least  important  feature  is  that  of  gratitude 
for  kind  and  hospitable  treatment.  In 
that  respect,  a  true  Scottish  Gipsy  has  al- 
ways been  as  true  as  steel  ;  and  that  is 
saying  a  great  deal  in  his  favour.  I  can- 
not agree  with  Mr.  Borrow,  when  he  says, 
that  the  Gipsies  "  travelled  three  thou- 
sand miles  into  Europe,  with  hatred  in 
their  hearts  towards  the  people' among  whom 
they  settled"  In  none  of  the  earliest  laws 
passed  against  them  is  anything  said  of 
their  being  other  than  thieves,  cheats,  etc., 
etc.  They  seem  to  have  been  too  politic 
to  commit  murder  ;  moreover,  it  appears 
to  have  been  foreign  to  their  disposition 
to  do  aught  but  obtain  a  living  in  the 
most  cunning  manner  they  could.  There 
is  no  necessary  connexion  between  pur- 
loining one's  property  and  hating  one's 
person.  As  long  as  the  Gipsies  were 
not  hardly  dealt  with,  they  could  natural- 
ly have  no  actual  hatred  towards  their 
fellow-creatures.  Mr.  Borrow  attributes 
none  of  the  spite  and  hatred  of  the  race 
towards  the  community  to  the  severity  of 
the  persecutions  to  which  it  was  exposed, 
or  to  that  hard  feeling  with  which  society 
has  regarded  it.  These,  and  the  example 
of  the  Spaniards,  doubtless  led  the  Gi- 
tanos  to  shed  the  blood  of  the  ordinary 
natives  (Ed.,  p.  433). 


150 


THE  SCOTTISH  CHURCHES  AND  THE  GIPSIES. 


ticularly  should  they  be  in  a  respectable 
position  in  life,  and  be  attached  to  their 
nation.  It  serves  no  great  purpose  to 
appear  too  serious  with  such  a  person, 
for  that  soorf  tires  him.  It  is  much  bet- 
ter to  keep  him  a  little  buoyant  and 
cheerful,  with  anecdotes  and  stories,  for 
that  is  his  natural  character  ;  and  to 
take  advantage  of  occasional  opportuni- 
ties, to  slip  in  advices  that  are  to  be  of 
use  to  hirrv  What  is  called  long-faced- 
ness  is  entirely  thrown  away  upon  a 
Gipsy  of  this  kind  (Ed.,  p.  529). 

It  is  the  Christian  who  should  be  the 
most  ready  to  take  up  and  do  justice  to 
this  subject ;  for  he  will  find  in  it  a  very 
singular  work  of  Providence — the  most 
striking  phenomenon  in  the  history  of 
man.  In  Europe,  the  race  has  existed, 


in  an  unacknowledged  state,  for  a  greater 
length  of  time  than  the  Jews  dwelt  in 
Egypt.  And  it  is  time  that  it  should  be 
introduced  to  the  family  of  mankind,  in 
its  aspect  of  historical  development ; 
embracing,  as  in  Scotland,  members 
ranging  from  what  are  popularly  under- 
stood to  be  Gipsies,  to  those  filling  the 
first  positions  in  Christian  and  social 
society  (Ed.,  p.  532). 

It  is  the  Christian  who  should  endea- 
vour to  have  the  prejudice  against  the 
name  of  Gipsy  removed,  so  that  every 
one  of  the  race  should  freely  own  his 
blood  to  the  other,  and  make  it  the 
basis  of  a  kindly  feeling,  and  a  bond  of 
brotherhood,  all  around  the  world  (Ed., 
P-  534). 


THE  SCOTTISH  CHURCHES  AND  THE  SOCIAL 
EMANCIPA TION  OF  THE  GIPSIES* 


F)  EVEREND  SIR  :— I  take  the 
J\  liberty  of  referring  you  to  the 
accompanying  papers  on  the  Gipsies, 
a  subject  that  well  merits  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Church,  inasmuch  as  to 
it  has  belonged,  almost  exclusively, 
since  the  introduction  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  mission  of  raising  up 
humanity  in  the  religious,  moral, 
and  social  aspects  of  its  nature. 
That  being  the  case  with  regard  to 
the  mere  instruction  of  mankind, 
it  becomes  a  much  greater  claim 
upon  the  Church,  to  treat  people  as 
men,  before  attempting  to  make  them 
Christians,  which  is  so  necessary  to 
be  done  with  the  Gipsies ;  for  the 
feeling  that  people  in  general  enter- 
tain for  them  is  not  much  better 
than  that  which  is  displayed  for 
toads  and  snakes,  or  reptiles  of  some 
kind.  And  yet,  the  Gipsies  are 
physically  a  fine  race  of  men,  and 
anything  but  dolts  in  apprehension 
or  capacity;  and,  in  their  way,  are 
very  polite  at  all  times,  and  espe- 
cially when  properly  approached  by 
other  people. 


This  tribe  appeared  in  Scotland 
not  later  than  the  year  1506.  Its 
existence  for  generations  thereafter 
has  been  so  established  by  the  rec- 
ords of  tradition,  and  so  many  acts 
of  the  Scots'  Parliament,  that  its  in- 
troduction and  long  continuance  in 
the  country  cannot  be  questioned. 
The  subject,  however,  has  of  late 
years  so  greatly  passed  beyond  the 
attention  of  the  public,  that  some 
even  doubt  the  existence  of  the  race 
at  all.  The  civil  and  political  rights 
of  individuals  or  corporations  may 
be  proscribed  by  lapse  of  time  ;  but 
such  cannot  be  said  of  a  principle, 
or  of  a  people,  so  long  as  it  can 
perpetuate  its  existence,  whatever 
the  form  or  aspect  of  its  develop- 
ment. 

The  Gipsies  entered  Scotland  in 
possession  of  a  language  totally  dis- 
tinct from  the  Scotch,  one  word  of 
which  they  probably  did  not  at  first 


*  This,  and  what  is  said  of  John  Bunyan 
and  the  Jews,  formed  a  communication  I 
addressed  to  some  of  the  Scottish  clergy, 
early  in  1871. 


THE  SOCIAL  EMANCIPA  TION  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 


understand.  They  arrived  com- 
pletely organized,  in  the  form  of 
tribes,  provincial  chieftains,  and  a 
king  over  all,  with  their  hand  against 
every  man,  and  the  hand  of  every 
man  (at  least  in  feeling)  against 
them.  In  short,  they  were  a  robber 
tribe,  which  held  in  the  highest  esti- 
mation successful  and  undiscovered 
theft,  practised,  with  some  excep- 
tions, on  all  outside  of  their  own 
fraternity.  They  were  not  originally 
a  part  of  the  native  population  that 
separated  from  the  community,  dur- 
ing a  social,  religious  tor  political 
convulsion,  and  adopted  habits  that 
made  them  outcasts  from  society, 
and  afterwards  regained  their  social 
standing  among  their  own  race,  by 
resuming  their  original  habits ;  but 
were  a  people  differing  nearly  as 
much  from  the  inhabitants  of  Scot- 
land, as  the  Indians  did  from  the 
colonists  settling  in  America.  They 
were  thus  not  Gipsies  in  consequence 
of  certain  habits,  so  that  a  change  of 
habits,  or  the  acquisition  of  means, 
or  education,  or  creed,  could  not 
change  them  from  being  Gipsies 
into  some  other  family,  tribe  or 
race. 

1  have  spoken  of  the  singular 
feeling  that  is  entertained  for  the 
Gipsies.  In  the  face  of  that  feel- 
ing, does  it  surprise  you  to  be  told 
that  the  race  should  hide  everything 
•connected  with  itself  from  others? 
It  would  be  contrary  to  the  simplest 
instincts  of  nature  and  all  experi- 
ence, should  they  have  done  other- 
wise ;  or  that  they  should  not 
"  marry  among  themselves,"  like  the 
Jews,  and  "  stick  to  each  other,"  what- 
ever may  be  their  positions  in  life. 
Hence,  the  tribe  have  so  far  suc- 
ceeded in  preventing  other  people 
from  knowing  almost  anything  con- 
nected with  them,  that  their  very 
existence  as  Gipsies  is  almost,  if  not 
altogether,  doubted,  if  not  denied. 

A  very  natural  question  to  ask  is, 
Where  have  the  Gipsies  gone  to  ? 
Has  their  fate  been  that  of  the  lost 
ten  tribes,  which,  it  is  generally  ad- 


mitted, is  beyond  the  reach  of  in- 
vestigation ?  How  could  that  be 
predicated  of  a  people  of  such  recent 
introduction  among  civilized  na- 
tions— that  really  belongs  to  con- 
temporary history,  and  is  to  be 
found  in  existence  among  us  to- 
day ?  How  unreasonable  it  is  to  con- 
clude that  the  tribe  has  ended  in 
nothing,  rather  than  by  a  careful 
examination  and  induction  discover 
the  real  history  of  it !  You  thus  see 
that  the  subject  becomes  one  of  dis- 
interested and  serious  inquiry,  in 
which  there  should  be  shown  none 
of  that  apathy  and  contempt,  and 
unreflecting  incredulity,  that  is  gen- 
erally manifested,  and  is  so  un- 
worthy of  the  age  in  which  we 
'live,  and  especially  of  men  of  educa- 
tion, and  social  and'official  standing 
in  society. 

Speak  of  civilized  Gipsies,  and 
even  intelligent  people  become  be- 
wildered as  to  the  meaning  of  the 
phrase,  or  rise  in  arms  against  the 
idea,  and  demand  proof  that  there 
is,  or  even  can  be,  such  a  phenome- 
non in  existence  as  a  civilized  Gip- 
sy. I,  of  course,  appeal  to  the 
fact,  in  all  its  bearings,  showing  how 
it  is  a  fact,  and  state,  as  a  simple 
elementary  truth,  that  the  children 
or  descendants  of  Gipsies  are  Gip- 
sies, whatever  their  habits,  charac- 
ter or  position  in  life  may  be  ;  leav- 
ing to  the  intuitive  intelligence  of 
others  to  realize  the  fact,  as  explain- 
ed, and  to  their  candour  to  acknow- 
ledge it.  I  might  even  turn  upon 
such  objectors,  and  ask  them  what 
they  mean,  when  they  speak  of  Gip- 
sies of  any  kind,  and  what  these  or 
their  descendants  must  do  to  divest 
themselves  of  the  character  of  be- 
longing to  a  tribe  that  is  to  be  found 
everywhere,  and  become  different 
from  what,  in  regard  to  blood,  feel- 
ings and  associations,  they  really  are. 
Indeed,  a  remark  of  that  kind  gene- 
rally closes  the  door  to  all  further 
questions  or  objections  of  that  na- 
ture. I  might  also  expatiate  on  the 
unreasonableness  of  people  dogma- 


152 


THE  SOCIAL  EMANCIPA  TION  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 


tizing  on  a  subject  on  which  (as  it 
may  be)  they  know  nothing  person- 
ally, and  can  appeal  to  no  one  bet- 
ter informed  on  the  point  than 
themselves.  I  readily  admit,  in  a 
general  way,  the  truth  of  the  adage, 
"  out  of  sight,  out  of  mind ;  "  but 
I  decidedly  object  to  its  being 
applied  to  the  Gipsies  to  mean  "  out 
of  sight,  out  of  existence." 

To  the  world  at  large,  the  subject 
of  civilized  Gipsies  is  a  new  idea 
(although  an  old  fact),  that  is  very 
apt  to  be  objected  to  because  it  is  a 
new  idea,  for  the  reason  that  people 
allege  they  do  not  understand  it. 
But  do  people  in  every  instance  un- 
derstand what  all  admit  to  be  facts  ? 
Do  they  even  understand  what  a 
Gipsy  of  the  popular  kind  means  ? 
We  in  reality  understand  little  of 
what  we  believe,  and  it  has  been 
well  said,  that  if  we  believed  only 
what  we  understood,  we  would  all 
have  remarkably  short  creeds.  As 
people  have  believed  in  Gipsies  of 
the  popular  kind  without  really  un- 
derstanding the  subject,  or  giving  it 
a  serious  thought,  so  might  they  be- 
lieve in  those  more  or  less  civilized, 
on  'the  simple  ground  that  they  are 
the  children  or  descendants  of  ordi- 
nary Gipsies,  having  their  blood,  an 
inherent  sense  of  being  members  of 
the  tribe,  and  some  of  the  language 
and  signs  peculiar  to  themselves, 
like  a  Masonic  society,  although  the 
possession  of  these  words  and  signs 
is  not  absolutely  necessary  to  con- 
stitute them  Gipsies;  for  the  mere 
consciousness  of  the  fact  of  being 
Gipsies,  transmitted  from  genera- 
tion to  generation,  and  made  the 
basis  of  marriages  and  the  intimate 
associations  of  life,  is  in  itself  per- 
fectly sufficient.  Hence,  we  can 
understand  the  meaning  of  Gipsy 
lady's  maids,  Gipsy  fiddlers  at  par- 
ties, Gipsy  spae-wives,  and  Gipsies 
in  other  spheres  of  life,  mentioned 
by  the  author,  whose  facts,  in  the 
language  of  an  American  writer,  are 
"  so  obviously  derived  from  personal 
observation  or  conscientious  inqui- 


ry, and  so  unaffectedly  related,"  as 
to  command  belief;  to  say  nothing 
of  what  I  have  added,  in  the  way  of 
facts  and  philosophy,  establishing 
the  perpetuation  of  the  Gipsy  na- 
tionality in  a  settled  and  civilized 
state. 

You  will  thus  see,  as  a  result  of 
the  Gipsy  nationality,  forced  as  it 
has  been  to  hide  itself  from  the  rest 
of  the  world,  that  a  bond  of  sympa- 
thy exists  between  its  members  when 
they  happen  to  meet,  and  that  no- 
thing can  be  more  natural  or  credi- 
ble. But,  however  natural  or  credi- 
ble, we  find  the  following  singular 
comments  on  the  subject  in  All  the 
Year  Round,  for  the  i;th  March, 
1866  :— 

"  Another  craze,  hitherto  not  general, 
but  which,  if  believed  in,  will  throw  over 
society  a  delightful  if  slightly  madden- 
ing amount  of  mystery,  has  been  put 
forth  in  a  certain  book,  written  by  a 
Scottish  enthusiast,  by  which  it  appears 
that  both  Scotland  and  England  are 
penetrated  through  and  through  with 
Gipsy  blood,  and  that  men  and  women 
whom  we  had  all  along  taken  for  douce 
and  honest  Anglo-Saxons,  or  at  the 
least  Celts  of  the  true  breed,  are  nothing 
better  than  Gipsies."  —  "  Our  lady's 
maids  may  be  Gipsies,  with  fair  hair  and 
blue  eyes,  '  chattering  Gipsy  '  secretly  to 
other  '  romany  managies,'  likewise  cun- 
ningly disguised.  Soldiers  and  sailors 
may  mset  other  '  Nawkens  '  or  Gipsies 
like  thsmselves  in  the  enemy's  camp, 
and  cry,  '  Zincali !  zincali ! '  as  at  the 
discovery  of  a  brother  .  .  .  but  we  do 
not  believe  it.  Nothing  is  easier  than 
to  make  up  a  mystery  [?].  .  .  .  It  is  all 
one  to  the  mystery-monger,  provided 
only  he  can  weave  his  webs  with  the 
faintest  show  of  reason." — "  Once  admit 
this  base  of  secrecy,  and  you  may  build 
on  it  the  most  gigantic  pyramid  of  mar- 
vel you  choose." — "  We  may  be  excused 
if  we  somewhat  doubt  the  accuracy  of 
statements  which  cannot  be  proved  by 
any  modern  methods  known  to  us."  [As 
if  research  and  observation,  and  the  sa- 
tisfying ourselves  as  to  facts,  were  not 
"  modern  methods  known  to  us  "  !  Or 
that  one  can  doubt  the  "  secrecy  "  that 
characterizes  the  Gipsies !] 

We  thus  see  how  mere  novelists 


THE  SOCIAL  EMANCIPA  TION  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 


153 


treat  a  question  like  the  present. 
Their  minds  seem  to  be  so  besotted 
with  fiction,  as  not,  in  a  matter  of 
this  kind,  to  be  capable  of  distin- 
guishing between  fact  and  fable.  As 
a  class,  or  almost  invariably,  they 
are  anything  but  men  of  science  or 
philosophy.  With  their  tawdry  senti- 
mentality and  improbable  coinci- 
dence of  circumstances,  and  all 
their  "  mystery  -  mongering,"  they 
cannot  produce  anything  of  lasting 
interest,  that  can  approach  facts, 
when  found  out  of  the  beaten  track, 
and  seem  jealous  of  them  in  conse- 
quence. A  man  of  Dickens'  stand- 
ing might  naturally  have  been  sup- 
posed to  become  fired  with  the  new 
ideas  presented  to  him,  so  as  to 
make  them  the  subject  of  one  of 
his  powerful  romances ;  but  that 
would  have  been  inconsistent  with 
his  genius,  which  preferred  to  stick 
to  what  people  already  admitted  ;  so 
that  he  proved  but  "  an  ordinary 
personage  "  on  the  occasion,  assum- 
ing that  he  was  the  writer  of  the 
article  in  question.  Does  the  re- 
mark of  Bunsen,  in  his  Egypt's 
Place  in  Universal  History,  hold 
good,  when  he  says : — 

"  Sound  judgment  is  displayed  rather 
in  an  aptness  for  believing  what  is  histori- 
cal, than  in  a  readiness  at  denying  it. 
.  .  .  Shallow  minds  have  a  decided 
propensity  to  fall  into  the  latter  error." 
"  Incapability  of  believing  on  evidence 
is  the  last  form  of  the  intellectual  imbe- 
cility of  an  enervated  age,  and  a  warn- 
ing sign  of  impending  decay."  * 


*  Mr.  Lei  and,  in  his  English  Gipsies, 
writes: — "Mr.  Dickens  has  set  before 
us  Cheap  Jacks,  and  a  number  of  men 
who  were,  in  their  very  face,  of  the  class 
of  which  I  speak  ;  but  I  cannot  recall  in 
his  writings  any  indication  that  he  knew 
that  these  men  had  a  singular  secret  life 
with  their  confreres,  or  that  they  could 
speak  a  strange  language  ;  for  we  may 
well  call  that  language  strange  which  is, 
in  the  main,  Sanscrit,  with  many  Persian 
words  intermingled.  Mr.  Dickens,  how- 
ever, did  not  preten-d,  as  some  have  done, 
to  specially  treat  of  Gipsies,  and  he  made 
no  affectation  of  a  knowledge  of  any 
mysteries.  He  simply  reflected  popular 
life  as  he  saw  it  "  (p.  5).  Dickens'  making 


In  an  article  in  Black-wood's  Maga- 
zine, for  May,  1866,  it  is  said  : — 

"If  an  enterprising  traveller  gets 
starved  to  death  in  Australia,  or  frozen 
up  at  the  North  Pole,  or  eaten  by  the 
natives  .in  Central  Africa,  at  least  he 
reaps  the  glory  of  the  venture.  But  to 
penetrate  into  Gipsydom  .  .  .  offers 
no  sort  of  honour  or  credit  by  way  of 
reward." 

The  motive  here  presented  rises 
no  higher  than  the  one  described  by 
Samuel  Johnson,  when  he  said,  that 
such  a  one  "  would  tumble  in  a  pig- 
stye,  if  he  could  but  get  people  to 
come  and  admire  him."  I  admit 
that  the  subject  of  the  Gipsies,  so 
far  as  it  is  understood,  and  as  Black- 
wood  will  have,  or  will  allow,  it  to  be 
understood,  presents  little  interest 
to  the  world,  if  it  means  only  a  cer- 
tain style  of  life  that  may  cease  at 
any  moment.  The  reviewer  abso- 
lutely ignores  the  allusions  of  the 
author  to  the  Gipsies,  in  a  greatly 
mixed  state,  as  regards  blood,  and 
in  a  settled  and  civilized  condition, 
and  characterizes  my  additions  to 
the  work  in  the  following  terms : — 

"But  they  [some  of  the  facts  and 
anecdotes]  have  unfortunately  been 
mixed  up  on  the  editor's  part  with  so 
much  w^ld  speculation,  and  so  many 
unsupported  assertions,  which  are  made 
to  pass  for  arguments." — "These  ac- 
cessories take,  up  nearly  half  of  the 
volume,  which  would  be  much  more 
readable  in  every  way  if  they  had  been 
omitted." 

That  is,  if  all  I  have  added  were 
represented  by  blank  paper,  litera- 
ture and  the  world  at  large  would 
have  been  gainers !  That  conserv- 
atism which  might  be  termed  Black- 
woodism  could  go  no  further.  How 
does  this  writer  know  that  these  ad- 
ditions are  "  wild  speculations  "  and 
"  unsupported  assertions  "  ?  It  never 
seems  to  have  occurred  to  him  that 
his  additions  to  the  subject  are 


no  pretence  of  any  knowledge  of  the 
Gipsies  was  a  good  reason  why  he  should 
not  have  allowed  the  article  in  question 
to  appear  in  All  the  Year  Round. 


154 


THE  SOCIAL  EMANCIPA  TION  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 


"  wild  speculations  "  and  "  unsup- 
ported assertions,"  in  all  probability 
got  up  to  meet  a  special  order  from 
the  shop. 

The  fact  is,  the  author  had  a 
grievance  against  the  Blackwoods, 
and  I  have  a  letter  from  Blackwood 
the  elder,  stating  that  he  will  have 
his  MS.  searched  for.  In  sending 
the  MS.  home  for  publication,  I  un- 
fortunately omitted  to  say  that  it 
was  not  to  be  given  to  the  Black- 
woods  ;  and,  as  bad  luck  would  have 
it,  it  went  straight  to  their  shop. 
There  it  remained  for  nearly  three 
years,  the  firm,  so  far  as  is  known, 
acting  the  dog  in  the  manger — that 
is,  they  would  neither  take  it,  nor 
allow  it  to  be  offered  to  another.  A 
correspondence  ensued,  and  a  de- 
termination was  come  to  to  com- 
mence legal  proceedings  against 
them,  which  I  presume  were  threat- 
ened, for  the  MS.  very  soon  made 
its  appearance,  after  I  had  given  it 
up  as  lost,  for  the  fifth  time.  Not- 
withstanding that,  the  article  con- 
tinues : — 

"  The  book  has  a  wandering  history 
of  its  own.  .  .  .  Even  now  it  has 
been  banished  the  realm,  and  shipped 
off  to  America  [!],  and  there  at  last  it 
has  found  its  way  into  print." 

It  was  indeed  a  pity  that  it  had 
not  been  altogether  "  burked."  The 
younger  Blackwoods  seem  to  have 
conceived  a  spite  for  the  work,  aris- 
ing, I  presume,  from  their  father 
and  their  magazine  having  been  so 
much  mixed  up  with  it,  in  its  incep- 
tion and  origin,  of  which  they  were 
doubtless  ashamed,  in  the  present 
popular  feeling  towards  the  subject. 
As  for  a  civilized  Gipsy,  the  maga- 
zine (on  what  authority  does  not 
appear)  scoffs  at  the  idea,  and  says, 
*'  Very  few  [it  might  have  said  none] 
can  have  realized  it,  as  set  forth  in 
this  book  " — an  interesting  admis- 
sion. 

Space  will  not  permit  me  to  say 
much  about  the  history  of  the  Gip- 
sies, as  the  blood  becomes  mixed 
with  native.  The  question  is  very 


fully  discussed  in  the  work.  The 
humblest  native  will  tell  you  that  he 
"would  as  soon  take  a  toad  to  his 
bosom,  as  marry  a  tinkler."  The 
consequence  is,  that  when  an  amal- 
gamation does  take  place,  the  pro- 
geny naturally  and  instinctively  go 
with  the  "  toad  "  and  the  toad's  peo- 
ple ;  and  if  they  are  settled  Gipsies, 
everything  is  kept  a  profound  se- 
cret from  the  relations  on  the  "  other 
side  of  the  house,"  and  an  ab- 
solute separation  ensues  if  they  are 
Gipsies  of  the  old  stock.  You  can 
thus  see  that  the  native  element  in- 
troduced ///  detail^  into  the  body  of 
Gipsydom  goes  with  that  body,  and 
in  feeling  becomes  incorporated 
with  it,  although  in  physical  appear- 
ance it  so  changes  the  Gipsy  race, 
that  it  becomes  "  confounded  with 
the  residue  of  the  population,"  but 
remains  Gipsy  as  before  ;  and  that, 
instead  of  the  Gipsies  becoming  lost 
among  the  native  population,  a  cer- 
tain part  of  the  native  blood  becomes 
lost  among  them,  adding  greatly  to 
the  number  of  the  body. 

It  would  be  unreasonable  to  say 
that  a  thing  does  not  exist  among 
the  Esquimaux,  because  it  is  not  to 
be  found  among  the  New  Zealanders, 
or  vice  versa.  Analogy  has  its  use, 
no  doubt;  but  everything  must  be 
settled  on  its  own  merits,  although 
JBlackwood  seems  to  think  otherwise, 
for  in  reference  to  the  Gipsies  be- 
coming wedged  in  among  native 
families,  he  says  : — 

"  If  your  great -great-grand  father  had 
the  eccentric  taste  to  marry  a  Hotten- 
tot, you  have  at  least  the  comfort  of 
thinking  that  by  this  time  the  cross 
must  have  pretty  nearly  disappeared." 

What  astonishes  me  the  most,  in 
connexion  with  the  subject  of  the 
Gipsies,  is,  that  writers,  like  the 
present  one,  should  dogmatize  so 
positively  on  what  are  in  reality 
matters  of  fact  of  which  they  ap- 
parently know  nothing  ;  which  can 
hardly  be  said  of  any  other  subject 
of  which  the  mind  takes  cognizance. 
You  might  as  well  take  some  people 


THE  SOCIAL  EMANCIPATION  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 


155 


with  a  warrant,  or  dispossess  them 
of  their  properties,  as  disturb  them 
in  their  ideas,  however  ill-founded.* 
In  one  of  his  articles  in  Black- 
wood's  Magazine,  the  author,  in  re- 
ference to  the  more  original  kind  of 
Gipsy,  said  : — 

"What  vexed  me  not  a  little  was, 
when  I  put  questions  on  the  subject  to 
sensible  individuals,  they  generally  burst 
out  a-laughing,  and  asked  me,  '  Who 
would  trouble  themselves  about  tink- 
lers ?  '  Such  is,  and  has  been,  the  con- 
duct and  manners  of  the  Gipsies,  that 
the  very  word  tinkler  excites  merriment 
whenever  it  is  mentioned.7' 

In  Scotland  to-day,  most  people 
are  surprised  when  the  word  Gipsy 
is  mentioned,  and  will  ask,  "  Do  you 
mean  thae  tinkler  bodies?  Wha 
would  bother  themselves  wi'  a 
wheen  tinklers  ?  "  In  the  work,  the 
author  wrote  : — 

"  The  fact  is,  the  Gipsies  have  hitherto 
been  so  completely  despised,  and  held 
*  in  such  thorough  contempt,  that  few 
ever  thought  of,  or  would  venture  to 
make  inquiries  of  them  relative  to,  their 
ancient  customs  and  manners  ;  and  that, 
when  any  of  their  ceremonies  were 
actually  observed  by  the  people  at  large, 
they  were  looked  upon  as  the  mere 
frolics,  the  unmeaning  and  extravagant 
practices  of  a  race  of  beggarly  thieves 
and  vagabonds,  unworthy  of  the  slight- 
est attention  or  credit." 

The  apathy  and  contempt,  and 
unreflecting  incredulity,  here  spoken 
of,  naturally  blind  people  to  facts 
the  most  obvious  and  incontestable, 
and  become,  under  Providence,  a 
complete  protection  against  any  in- 

*  It  is  hardly  necessary  for  me  to  point 
out  the  trifling  fallacy  in  comparing  the 
idea  of  being  a  member  of  the  Gipsy 
tribe,  that  exists  in  Scotland  and  every 
other  country,  with  that  of  a  person  hav- 
ing had  a  remote  ancestor  from  one  of 
the  tropical  countries  visited  by  Scotch- 
men. And  yet  there  is  some  of  such 
blood  in  the  country.  So  accustomed 
are  people  to  be  influenced  by  what  is 
conventional  only,  that  few  could  attach 
a  meaning  to  the  phrase  "  a  Scotch  Negro," 
while  that  of  "American  Negro  "would 
pass  current  anywhere. 


quiry  regarding  the  tribe,  in  the 
singular  position  which  it  occupies 
in  the  world.  In  the  work,  I  have 
said  : — 

"  As  the  Jews,  during  their  pilgrimage 
in  the  Wilderness,  were  protected  from 
their  enemies  by  a  cloud,  so  have  the 
Gipsies,  in  their  increase  and  develop- 
ment, been  shielded  from  theirs  by  a 
mist  of  ignorance,  which,  it  would 
seem,  requires  no  little  trouble  to  dis- 
pel." 

I  think  I  have  said  enough  to 
create  in  your  mind  a  curiosity  and 
interest  towards  the  subject  of  the 
Gipsies,  and  the  more  so  by  the 
many  narrow  escapes  the  MS.  had 
from  being  lost,  and  the  peculiar 
way  the  work  is  now  brought  under 
your  notice.  What,  under  Provi- 
dence, may  be  its  ultimate  destiny 
in  Scotland,  will  depend  greatly  up- 
on those  to  whom  this  communica- 
tion is  addressed.  There  is  to  be 
encountered,  in  the  first  place,  the 
prejudice  (I  will  not  call  it  the  hos- 
tility) of  centuries,  that  has  become 
a  feeling  of  caste — the  most  difficult 
thing  to  grapple  with.  Yet  no  one 
can  be  blamed  for  that  feeling ;  it  is 
but  the  result  of  preceding  causes 
or  circumstances.  It  has  had  this 
effect  upon  the  tribe,  that  they  are 
"  ashamed  "  to  let  it  be  known  that 
they  are  Gipsies,  and  (as  it  may  be) 
can  speak  the  language ;  and  they 
think  they  "would  become  odious" 
to  the  world,  and  would  be  "  looked 
on  with  horror  and  contempt,"  in 
consequence.  The  result  is,  that  the 
subject  has  become  like  a  substance 
hermetically  sealed  from  the  public, 
which  retains  its  inherent  qualities 
undiminished  when  kept  in  that  po- 
sition. 

It  is  unfortunate  that  there  should 
be  such  a  feeling  entertained  for  a 
people  that  have  lived  in  Scotland 
for  365  years.  It  cannot  be  said 
that  it  is  applied  to  other  Gipsies 
than  those  of  the  old  stock,  for  the 
question  has  never  been  tested. 
The  organs  of  society  do  not  seem 
to  have  noticed  the  subject,  perhaps 


I56 


THE  SOCIAL  EMANCIPA  TION  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 


for  the  reason  that  they  do  not 
think  the  people  will  receive  what 
they  may  say  in  regard  to  it.  It  is 
on  that  account  I  have  addressed 
this  letter  to  you,  with  the  hope  that 
you  will  consider  it  a  duty,  a  privi- 
lege, and  a  pleasure,  to  do  some- 
thing in  the  way  of  diffusing  a 
knowledge  and  creating  an  opinion 
on  the  subject,  and  a  sympathy  and 
respect  for  the  people  described. 
Your  position  in  society  is  very  in- 
fluential, and  the  liberality  of  your 
education,  particularly  as  regards 
logic  and  metaphysics,  gives  you  a 
great  advantage  in  drawing  the  dis- 
tinctions necessary  to  be  made,  in 
investigating  the  subject  treated.  I 
do  not  mean  that  you  should  neces- 
sarily take  any  public  or  official  no- 
tice of  it,  but  that,  as  a  private 
Christian'gentleman,  you  should  do 
your  best,  among  your  friends  and 
neighbours,  to  bring  about  a  change 
of  ideas  and  feelings,  in  a  quiet, 
genial,  and  gradual  manner,  as  the 
ruder  season  passes  into  the  more 
gentle,  and  as  a  purely  social  and 
moral  movement  should  be  made ; 
just  as  Christianity  itself,  in  its  gen- 
eral principles,  spread  its  benign 
influences  over  all  that  came  within 
its  reach.  I  intend  sending  this 
communication  to  all  the  Scotch 
clergy,  and  many  people  holding 
positions  of  trust  and  influence,  as 
well  as  to  the  press ;  in  short,  to 
people  who  will  not  be  apt  to 
"  laugh  "  at  the  subject,  when  they 
come  to  understand  what  it  means, 
so  that  no  hesitation  need  be  shown 
in  alluding  to  it  in  society.  What  is 
wanted,  is  to  "  make  a  beginning," 
and  it  will  happen,  as  in  most  mat- 


ters, that  difficulties  will  disappear, 
or  will  not  prove  so  formidable  as  at 
first  imagined. 

The  leading  ideas  to  be  kept  in 
mind,  in  such  a  movement,  should 
be,  \st.  That  the  subject  of  the  Gip- 
sies should  be  investigated  and  de- 
cided on  its  merits,  whatever  the 
consequences.  2d.  That  no  Scotch- 
man is  to  be  disparaged  on  account 
of  his  blood,  but  should  be  treated 
on  his  individual  merits,  as  ordi- 
narily recognized  by  society.  3^. 
That  being  a  Gipsy  should  entitle 
the  person  to  greater  honour,  in 
proportion  to  his  good  character, 
and  the  hard  name  the  race  has 
hitherto  borne,  ^th.  That  it  would 
be  gratifying  to  have  the  race 
"  clothed  and  in  its  right  mind," 
and  "  raised  up  and  openly  acknow- 
ledged," and  respected  by  the  rest 
of  the  population.  $th.  That  it 
would  be  interesting,  and  every 
way  advantageous  to  themselves 
and  the  community  at  large,  for  the 
tribe  to  acknowledge  themselves 
freely  and  openly,  and  form  them- 
selves into  societies  for  such  pur- 
poses as  the  world  recognizes.  6th. 
That  it  should  be  a  credit,  rather 
than  a  disparagement,  for  any  one 
to  speak  the  Gipsy  language.  *jth. 
That  the  word  Gipsy  should  invari- 
ably begin  with  a  capital  letter. 

To  show  you  Jiow  the  ideas  of  so- 
ciety change,  I  may  remind  you  that 
not  long  ago  none  but  such  as  led 
about  bears,  monkeys,  and  raccoons, 
would  dare  to  wear  beards  and 
mustaches ;  but  that  soon  thereafter 
they  became  fashionable  among  all 
kinds  of  people,  not  excepting  grave 
and  reverend  clergymen. 


WAS  JOHN  BUNYAN  A  GIPSY f 


AS  regards  the  nationality  of  John 
Bunyan,  it  can  be  said  that  he 
told  us  most  positively  what  he  was, 
and  v/hat  he  was  not,  and  it  would 
be  strange  if  no  intelligible  meaning 
could  be  attached  to  what  he  in- 
formed us  on  that  head.  You  know 
that  we  hang  people  on  circumstan- 
tial evidence,  actually  hang  them  on 
the  mere  force  of  circumstances, 
without  direct  proof,  and  justly  so. 
Cannot  we  then  use  such  evidence 
to  prove  a  simple  fact  regarding  the 
nationality  of  a  man  whose  praises 
are  in  all  the  Churches,  and  indeed 
in  all  the  world,  when  every  moral 
and  religious,  every  humane  and 
God-like  purpose  is  to  be  served  by 
it  ?  And  why  cannot  a  question  of 
that  kind  be  settled  by  society  by  as 
rigid  rules  as  would  be  enforced  in 
a  court  of  justice?  Each  juryman 
is  sworn  to  decide  by  the  evidence 
laid  before  him,  and  in  no  other 
way.  He  is  also  challenged,  and  if 
he  has  already  made  up  his  mind  on 
the  case,  he  is  excluded.  A  witness 
is  sworn,  and  can  be  imprisoned  if 
he  will  not  testify,  and  if  he  testifies 
falsely,  sent  to  the  hulks. 

In  Grace  Abounding,  John  Bun- 
yan says : — 

"  For  my  descent,  it  was,  as  is  well 
known  to  many,  of  a  low  and  inconsid- 
erable generation,  my  father's  house 
being  of  that  rank  that  is  meanest  and 
most  despised  of  all  the  families  of  the 
land." 

Here  he  speaks  most  positively 
of  what  he  was — that  is,  the  meanest 
and  most  despised  of  ALL  the  families 
of  the  land ;  and  as  positively  of 
what  he  was  not : — 

"  Another  thought  came  into  my 
mind,  and  that  was,  whether  we  [his 
family  and  relations]  were  of  the  Israel- 
ites or  no  ?  For  finding  in  the  Scrip- 
tures that  they  were  once  the  peculiar 


people  of  God,  thought  I,  if  I  were  one 
of  this  lace  [how  significant  is  the  ex- 
pression !]  my  soul  must  needs  be  hap- 
py, Now,  again,  I  found  within  me  a 
great  longing  to  be  resolved  about  this 
question,  but  could  not  tell  how  I  should. 
At  last  I  asked  my  father  of  it,  who  told 
me,  No,  we  [his  father  included]  were 
not." 

Can  we  possibly  apply  the  lan- 
guage contained  in  these  two  ex- 
tracts to  any  other  than  the  Gipsies  ? 
To  assert  that  Bunyan  was  not  a 
Gipsy,  but  a  tinker,  would  be  as 
meaningless  as  to  say  that  he  was 
not  a  Gipsy,  but  a  tailor.  There 
can  be  no  question  that  the  genera- 
tion and  family  to  which  he  belong- 
ed were  Gipsies — the  meanest  and 
most  despised  of  all  those  of  the 
land,  where  they  had  lived  for  up- 
wards of  a  century,  and  had  existed 
in  Europe  for  more  than  two  centu- 
ries. Hence,  as  the  tribe  is  an  enig- 
ma to  itself,  no  less  than  to  others, 
the  question,  and  the  great  trouble  to 
solve  it,  on  John  Bunyan's  part,  to 
ascertain  whether  he  was  a  Jew. 
Could  the  language  quoted,  by  any 
possibility,  mean  that  he  was  a  com- 
mon native  of  England  of  any  kind 
or  calling  ?  But  why  did  he  not  say 
plainly  that  he  was  a  Gipsy  ?  Sim- 
ply for  the  reason  that  it' was  death 
by  law  to  be  a  Gipsy,  and  "  felony 
without  benefit  of  clergy  "  for  "  any 
person,  being  fourteen  years,  whe* 
ther  natural-born  subject  or  stran- 
ger, who  had  been  seen  in  the  fel- 
lowship of  such  persons,  or  dis- 
guised like  them,  and  remained  with 
them  one  month  at  once  or  several 
times  ;  "  to  say  nothing  of  the  popu- 
lar odium  attaching  to  the  name, 
which  was,  in  all  probability,  the 
greatest  reason  he  had  for  not  using 
the  word,  as  it  is  the  greatest  bar  (I 
might  say  the  only  bar)  to  his  na- 
tionality being  acknowledged  to- 
(157) 


WAS  JOHN  BUN  VAN  A  GIPSY? 


day.  Even  in  the  United  States,  I 
find  intelligent  and  liberal-minded 
Scotchmen,  twenty  years  absent 
from  their  native  country,  saying, 
"  I  would  not  like  it  to  be  said,"  and 
others,  "  I  would  not  have  it  said  that 
Bunyan  was  a  Gipsy."  Notwith- 
standing all  that,  the  writer  in  Black- 
wood  says  : — 

"John  Bunyan  was  so  exceedingly 
plain-spoken,  that  he  would  most  likely 
have  called  himself  a  Gipsy  if  he  were 
really  one," 

even  if  he  were  to  be  hanged  for  it, 
or  treated  as  a  felon  "  without  ben- 
efit of  clergy,"  and  incurred  the 
odium  of  his  fellow-creatures  of  the 
native  race,  when  there  was  no  call 
or  occasion  for  him  to  say  anything 
about  his  ancestry  or  family ;  and  that, 

"  Our  editor's  idea  of  a  '  conclusive ' 
proof  is  a  defiance  and  anathema  to  any 
who  shall  dare  to  assert  the  contrary." 

It  sounds  strange,  as  coming  from 
the  seat  of  legal  science  in  Scotland, 
to  be  told  that  a  thing  cannot  be 
proved  against  a  man  unless  he  con- 
fesses it ;  and  that  he  is  not  even  to 
be  believed  on  the  point  if  he  does 
confess  it,  but  declines  using  a  word 
to  which  the  law  and  society  attach 
so  severe  a  penalty  as  the  one  in 
question. 

You  will  perceive  at  once  the 
bearing  that  Bunyan's  nationality 
will  have  on  the  raising  up  of  the 
name  of  the  Gipsy  tribe.  People 
will  get  accustomed  and  reconciled 
to  the  idea,  and  entertain  a  becom- 
ing respect  for  it,  were  it  only  on  his 
account;  for  it  unfortunately  hap- 
pens that,  owing  to  the  peculiarity 
of  their  origin,  and  the  prejudice  of 
the  rest  of  the  population,  the  race 
hide  the  fact  of  their  being  Gipsies 
from  the  rest  of  the  world,  as  they 
acquire  settled  habits,  or  even  leave 
the  tent,  so  that  they  never  get  the 
credit  of  any  good  that  may  spring 
from  them  as  a  people.* 


*  What  follows  did  not  appear  in  the 
paper  sent  to  the  Scottish  clergy. 


In  the  Disquisition  on  the  Gipsies^ 
I  have  said  that  "  the  world  never 
can  do  justice  to  Bunyan  unless  it 
takes  him  up  as  a  Gipsy ;  nor  can 
the  Christian,  unless  he  considers 
him  as  being  a  Gipsy,  in  Abraham's 
bosom.  His  biographers  have  not, 
even  in  one  instance,  done  justice 
to  him ;  for,  while  it  is  altogether 
out  of  the  question  to  call  him  the 
'  wicked  tinker,'  the  *  depraved  Bun- 
yan,' it  is  unreasonable  to  style 
him  a  '  blackguard,'  as  Southey  has 
done"  (p.  519).  The  argument 
showing  that  he  was  a  Gipsy  is  very 
fully  given  on  pages  506-523.  I 
may  give  here  a  few  extracts  bear- 
ing on  his  nationality  generally  : — 

John  Bunyan  has  told  us  as  much  of 
his  history  as  he  dared  to  do.  It  was  a 
subject  upon  which,  in  some  respects,  he 
doubtless  maintained  a  great  reserve; 
for  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  a  man 
occupying  so  prominent  and  popular  a 
position,  as  a  preacher  and  writer,  and 
of  so  singular  an  origin, .  should  have 
had  no  investigations  made  into  his  his- 
tory, and  that  of  his  family ;  if  not  by 
his  friends,  at  least  by  his  enemies,  who 
seemed  to  have  been  capable  of  doing 
anything  to  injure  and  discredit  him.* 
But,  very  probably,  his  being1  a  tinker 
was,  with  friends  and  enemies,  a  cir- 
cumstance so  altogether  discreditable, 
as  to  render  any  investigation  of  the 
kind  perfectly  superfluous.  In  mention- 
ing that  much  of  himself  which  he  did, 
Bunyan  doubtless  imagined  that  the 
world  understood,  or  would  have  under- 
stood, what  he  meant,  and  would,  sooner 
or  later,  acknowledge  the  race  to  which 
he  belonged.  And  yet  it  has  remained 
in  this  unacknowledged  state  for  two 
centuries  since  his  time.  How  unreason- 
able it  is  to  imagine  that  Bunyan  should 
have  said,  in  as  many  words,  that  he 
was  a  Gipsy,  when  the  world  generally 
is  so  apt  to  become  fired  with  indigna- 
tion, should  we  now  say  that  he  was  " 
one  of  the  race.  How  applicable  are 

*  It  is  not  impossible  that  people  inti- 
mate with  Bunyan  learned  from  his  own 
mouth  that  he  was  a  Gipsy,  but  suppress- 
ed the  information,  under  the  influence 
of  the  unfortunate  prejudice  that  exists 
against  the  name,  with  all  the  timidity 
that  makes  sheep  huddle  together  when 
attacked  by  a  ravenous  animal. 


WAS  JOHN  BUN  VAN  A  GIPSY? 


159 


the  words  of  his  wife,  to  Sir  Matthew 
Hale,  to  the  people  of  the  present  day : — 
"  Because  he  is  a  tinker,  and  a  poor 
man,  he  is  despised,  and  cannot  have 

justice." John  Bunyan  was 

simply  a  Gipsy  of  mixed  blood,  who 
must  have  spoken  the  Gipsy  language 
in  great  purity  ;  for,  considering  the  ex- 
tent to  which  it  is  spoken  in  England 
to-day,  we  can  well  believe  that  it  was 
very  pure  two  centuries  ago,  and  that 
Bunyan  might  have  written  works  even 
in  that  language  (p.  516). 

To  a  candid  and  unprejudiced  person, 
it  should  afford  a  relief,  in  thinking  of 
the  immortal  dreamer,  that  he  should 
have  been  a  member  of  this  singular 
race,  emerging  from  a  state  of  compara- 
tive barbarism,  and  struggling  upwards, 
amid  so  many  difficulties,  rather  than  he 
should  have  been  of  the  very  lowest  of 
our  own  race  ;  for  in  that  case,  there  is 
an  originality  and  dignity  connected  with 
him  personally,  that  could  not  well  at- 
tach to  him,  in  the  event  of  his  having 
belonged  to  the  dregs  of  the  common 
natives.  Beyond  being  a  Gipsy,  it  is 
impossible  to  say  what  his  pedigree 
really  was.  His  grandfather  might  have 
been  an  ordinary  native,  even  of  fair 
birth,  who,  in  a  thoughtless  moment, 
might  have  "  gone  off  with  the  Gipsies ;" 
or  his  ancestor,  on  the  native  side  of  the 
house,  might  have  been  one  of  the 
"many  English  loiterers"  who  joined 
the  Gipsies  on  their  arrival  in  England, 
when  they  were  "esteemed  and  held 
in  great  admiration;"  or  he  might 
have  been  a  kidnapped  infant ;  or  such 
a  "  foreign  tinker  "  as  is  alluded  to  in 
the  Spanish  Gipsy  edicts,  and  in  the 
Act  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  in  which  men- 
tion is  made  of  "  strangers,"  as  distin- 
guished from  natural-born  subjects,  be- 
ing with  the  Gipsies.  The  last  is  most 
probable,  as  the  name,  Bunyan,  would 
seem  to  be  of  foreign  origin.  It  is, 
therefore,  very  likely  that  there  was  not 
a  drop  of  common  English  blood  in 
Bunyan's  veins.  John  Bunyan  belongs 
to  the  world  at  large,  and  England  is 
only  entitled  to  the  credit  of  the  forma- 
tion of  his  character.  Be  all  that  as  it 
may,  Bunyan's  father  seems  to  have 
been  a  superior,  and  therefore  important, 
man  in  the  tribe,  from  the  fact,  as 
Southey  says,  of  his  having  "  put  his 
son  to  school  in  an  age  when  very  few 
of  the  poor  were  taught  to  read  and 
write  "  (p.  518). 

The  day  is  gone  by  when  it  cannot  be 


said  who  John  Bunyan  was.  In  Cow- 
per's  time  his  name  dare  not  be  men- 
tioned, "  lest  it  should  move  a  sneer." 
Let  us  hope  that  we  are  living  in  happier 
times.  Tinkering  was  Bunyan's  occu- 
pation ;  his  race  the  Gipsy — a  fact  that 
cannot  be  questioned.  His  having  been 
a  Gipsy  adds,  by  contrast,  a  lustre  to  his 
name,  and  reflects  an  immortality  upon 
his  character  ;  and  he  stands  out,  from 
among  all  the  men  of  the  latter  half  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  in  all  his  soli- 
tary grandeur,  a  monument  of  the  grace 
of  God,  and  a  prodigy  of  genius.  Let 
us,  then,  enroll  John  Bunyan  as  the  first 
(that  is  known  to  the  world)  of  eminent 
Gipsies,  the  prince  of  allegorists,  and 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  of  men  and 
Christians.  What  others  of  this  race 
there  may  be  who  have  distinguished 
themselves  among  mankind,  are  known 
to  God  and,  it  may  be,  some  of  the  Gip- 
sies. The  saintly  Doctor  to  whom  I 
have  alluded  was  one  of  this  singular 
people  ;  and  one  beyond  question,  for 
his  admission  of  the  fact  cannot  be  de- 
nied by  any  one.  Any  life  of  John 
Bunyan,  or  any  edition  of  his  works, 
that  does  not  contain  a  record  of  the 
fact  of  his  having  been  a  Gipsy,  lacks 
the  most  important  feature  connected 
with  the  man  that  makes  everything  re- 
lating to  him  personally  interesting  to 
mankind  (p.  523). 

The  innkeeper  evidently  thought  him- 
self in  bad  company,  when  our  author 
asked  him  for  the  Tinkler's  house,  or 
that  any  intercourse  with  a  Tinkler 
would  contaminate  and  degrade  him. 
In  this  light  read  an  anecdote  in  the 
history  of  John  Bunyan,  who  was  one  of 
the  same  people,  as  I  shall  afterwards 
show.  In  applying  for  his  release  from 
Bedford  jail,  his  wife  said  to  Justice 
Hale,  "  Moreover,  my  lord,  I  have  four 
small  children  that  cannot  help  them- 
selves, of  which  one  is  blind,  and  we 
have  nothing  to  live  upon  but  the  charity 
of  good  people."  Thereat  Justice  Hale, 
looking  very  soberly  on  the  matter,  said, 
"  Alas,  poor  woman  !  "  "  What  is  his 
calling  ?  "  continued  the  judge.  And 
some  of  the  company,  that  stood  by, 
said  (evidently  in  interruption,  and  with 
a  bitter  sneer),  "  A  tinker,  my  lord  !  " 
"  Yes,"  replied  Bunyan's  wife,  "  and  be- 
cause he  is  .a  tinker,  and  a  poor  man, 
therefore  he  is  despised,  and  cannot 
have  justice."  Noble  woman  !  wife  of  a 
noble  Gipsy !  If  the  world  wishes  to 
know  who  John  Bunyan  really  was,  it 


i6o 


WAS  JOHN  BUNYAN  A  GIPSY? 


can  find  him  depicted  in  our  author's 
visit  to  this  Scottish  Gipsy  family  ;  where 
it  can  also  learn  the  meaning  of  Bunyan, 
at  a  time  when  Jews  were  legally  ex- 
cluded from  England,  taking  so  much 
trouble  to  ascertain  whether  he  was  of 

*  A  rather  singular  notice  of  the  His- 
tory of  the  Gipsies  appeared  in  the  Atlantic 
Monthly,  for  August,  1866,  in  which  the 
Disquisition  is  described  as  "of  amusing- 
ly pompous  and  inconsequent  nature." 
And  yet  the  writer  speaks  of  the  argu- 
ment showing  that  John  Bunyan  was  a 
Gips)',  as  being  such,  that  the  reader 
"makes  no  struggle  to  escape  the  conclu- 
sion thus  skilfully  sprung  upon  him  ;" 
which  would  show  that  that  part  of  the  Dis- 
quisition, at  least,  was  anything  but  "  in- 
consequent." He  speaks  of  the  theory  of 
Bunyan  having  been  a  Gipsy  as  some- 
thing "invented,"  seemingly  ignorant  of 
the  fact  that  it  is  an  "  invented  theory," 
and  a  very  foolish  one  at  that,  that  he  was 
a  common  Englishman.  It  would  be 
interesting  to  have  an  argument  in  favour 
of  the  common  native  hypothesis,  beyond 
the  trifling  remarks  made  by  Blackwood, 
which  were  amply  anticipated  in  the  Dis- 
quisition. In  the  face  of  what  Bunyan 
said  of  himself,  it  is  very  unreasonable  to 
hold  that  he  was  not  a  Gipsy,  but  a  com- 
mon native,  when  the  assumption  is  all 
the*  other  way.  Let  neither,  however,  be 
assumed,  but  let  an  argument  in  favour 
of  both  be  placed  alongside  of  the  other, 
to  see  how  the  case  would  look. 

The  writer  in  the  Atlantic  goes  on  to 
say: — "His  subject  has  been  too  much 
for  him,  and  his  mental  vision,  disordered 
by  too  ardent  contemplation  of  Gipsies, 
reproduces  them  wherever  he  turns  his 
thought.  If  he  values  any  one  of  his  il- 
lusions above  the  rest — for  they  all  seem 
equally  pleasant  to  him — it  is  his  persua- 
sion that  John  Bunyan  was  a  Gipsy."  It 
is  amusing  to  notice  the  presumption  of 
this  gentleman — rushing  in,  in  the  sheer- 
est wantonness,  where,  not  an  angel,  but 
even  a  fool  would  fear  to  tread — in  speak- 
ing of  the  contents  of  the  work  being  "  il- 
lusions," when  the  subjects  specially 
treated  appear  to  have  been  unknown  to 
him,  and  evidently  beyond  his  compre- 
hension or  candour.  He  concludes  with 
the  remark  : — "  Otherwise,  the  work  is  a 
mass  of  rather  interesting  rubbish."  It 
would  be  interesting  to  know  how  such 
ignorance  and  lack  of  the  ordinary 
courtesies  could  have  gained  admittance 
to  the  pages  of  the  Atlantic.  Perhaps  the 
following  will  partly  explain  it : — "  Will 
it  be  believed  that  the  inventor  of  this 
theory  [that  Bunyan  was  a  Gipsy]  was 
denied  admittance  to  the  columns  of 
the  religious  newspapers  in  this  country, 


that  race  or  not.  From  the  present 
work  generally,  the  world  can  learn 
the  reason  why  Bunyan  said  nothing  of 
his  ancestry  and  nationality,  when  giv- 
ing an  account  of  his  own  history  (Note 
of  Ed.,  p.  313).* 


on  the  flimsy  pretext  [in  one  instance] 
that  the  editor  could  not  afford  the  space 
for  a  disquisition  on  John  Bunyan's  Gipsy 
origin  ?  "  That  will  be  very  easily  believed, 
if  we  consider  the  difficulty  experienced 
in  getting  a  hearing  for  any  new  idea,  let 
it  be  what  it  may,  and  especially  if  it 
would  unsettle  the  belief  of  the  world  in 
regard  to  John  Bunyan,  however  much  it 
might  add  to  his  reputation  and  the 
interest  attaching  to  him.  It  was  there- 
fore anything  but  becoming  that  this 
writer  should  have  had  the  discourtesy  to 
insinuate — and  more  than  insinuate — that 
what  I  had  stated  was  not  true  ;  and  ap- 
parently made  it  the  grounds  of  his 
thoughtless,  undignified,  and  ungrateful 
remarks  about  the  work  generally.  It 
also  indicated  a  low  cast  of  natural  intel- 
ligence, whatever  the  education  or  train- 
ing, that  was  anything  but  creditable  to 
the  latitude  of  Boston.  It  is  doubtful 
whether  a  religious  or  almost  any  kind  of 
paper  has,  up  to  the  present  time,  fairly 
admitted  the  idea  of  John  Bunyan  having 
been  a  Gipsy  into  its  columns  ;  to  say  noth- 
ing of  stating  it  at  any  length,  and  giving 
an  opinion  whether  the  question  has  been 
settled,  or  even  rendered  probable,  or 
not.  I  think  that  the  argument  is  suffi- 
ciently "consequent"  to  hang  a  man, 
especially  if,  as  the  writer  in  the  Atlantic 
says,  it  is  such  that  the  reader  "  makes  no 
struggle  to  escape  the  conclusion  thus 
skilfully  sprung  upon  him."  Blackwooa 
and  the  Atlantic  doubtless  hold  themselves 
to  be  the  high-priests  of  criticism,  each 
in  his  own  country,  whose  prerogative, 
sometimes,  is  rather  to  endeavour  to  sup- 
press what  contributes  to  knowledge  ; 
playing  a  part  that  is  a  useful  though  an 
ignoble  one.  The  remarks  of  the  follow- 
ing journals,  although  they  show  a  timid- 
it)-  or  an  aversion  to  entertain  the  ques- 
tion, are  yet  couched  in  language  that 
entails  no  discredit  on  them  : — "  If  our 
readers  are  unconvinced,  let  them  not 
confess  it"  (Pall  Mall  Gazette).—11  He 
thinks  that  because  John  Bunyan  was  a 
tinker  [and  for  other  reasons],  he  was  al- 
most certainly  [rather  altogether]  of  Gipsy 
origin.  .  .  .  We  may  possibly,  some 
day,  devote  an  article  to  this  strange  peo- 
ple "  (British  Quarterly}. — "  But  we  are 
getting  on  dangerous  ground,  and  as  we 
have  no  wish  to  illustrate  the  proverb,  we 
break  off  before  catching  the  Gipsy's 
hypothetical  ancestor"  (Westminster  Re- 
view). Englishmen,  generally,  are  not  in 


THE  DUKE  OF  ARGYLL  ON  THE  PRESERVATION  OF 

THE  JEWS. 


IN  thinking  of  the  Gipsies,  an  allu- 
sion to  the  Jews  is  natural.  Many 
hold  that  their  existence  since  the 
dispersion  is  a  miracle,  and  others 
that  it  is  a  special  providence.  Now, 
miracles  are  of  two  kinds;  one  iri 
which  the  hand  of  man  does  not  ap- 
pear, as  in  the  burning  bush,  and 
the  other  in  which  it  does  appear — 
both  appealing  palpably  to  the  sen- 
ses. In  no  meaning  of  the  word, 
then,  can  the  existence  of  the  Jews 
since  the  dispersion  be  a  miracle ; 
nor  can  it  be  a  special  providence, 
for  as  Providence  creates  and  sus- 
tains us,  and  numbers  our  years,  and 
counts  the  hairs  on  our  heads,  feeds 
the  sparrows,  and  clothes  the  lilies 
of  the  field — "  preserving  and  gov- 
erning all  his  creatures,  and  all  their 
actions  " — there  is  no  room  for  a 
special  providence.  Revelation  and 
miracles,  providence  and  grace  are 
the  only  attributes  of  the  Deity,  of 
that  nature,  made  known  to  us. 

A  large  part  of  the  Jews  never 
lived  in  Palestine  after  the  Babylo- 
nian captivity,  and  at  the  destruc- 
tion of  Jerusalem  perhaps  the  most 
of  the  race  were  abroad,  so  that  they 
became — what  they  were  already — 


the  habit  of  shirking  responsibilities  of 
any  kind. 

In  the  Disquisition  are  to  be  found  the 
following  sentiments  of  the  Gipsies,  that 
illustrate  the  question  whi.ch  John  Bunyan 
asked  his  father : — "We  must  have  been 
among  the  Jews,  for  some  of  our  cere- 
monies are  like  theirs"  (p.  511).  "They 
naturally  think  of  the  Jews,  and  wonder 
whether,  after  all,  their  race  may  not,  at 
some  time,  have  been  connected  with 
them"  (p.  512).  This  point  is  naturally 
laid  stress  on  by  Mr.  Leland  in  his  English 
Gipsies,  published  lately,  with  reference  to 
Bunyan's  question,  and  the  great  trouble 
he  took  to  have  it  answered, "  Whether  we 
were  of  the  Israelites  or  no." 

On  the  occasion  of  erecting  a  statue  to 
Bunyan, at  Bedford, on  the  roth  of  June  last, 
II 


a  scattered  people,  looking  to  Pales- 
tine as  the  home  of  their  race  and 
religion,  as  Catholics,  in  the  matter 
of  creed,  have  looked  to  Rome.  Al- 
though informed  by  prophecy  of 
what  was  to  befall  the  Jews,  the 
means  bringing  it  about  were  of  the 
most  ordinary  kind — that  is,  the  sys- 
tem of  Roman  conquest,  as  applied 
to  all  the  surrounding  nations,  and 
their  own  passions,  factions  and 
vices.  Ever  since,  the  Jews  have 
existed  in  the  same  position,  and  by 
the  same  means;  the  dislike  and 
persecution  by  the  world  at  large, 
acting  on  the  inherent  peculiarities 
of  the  race,  being  alone  sufficient  to 
keep  them  separate  •  from  other  peo- 
ple. I  have  discussed  the  subject 
pretty  fully  in  the  work,  showing 
that  the  existence  of  the  Jews  since 
the  dispersion  is  in  exact  harmony 
with  every  natural  law,  and  that  it 
would  have  been  a  miracle  had  they 
ceased  to  be  Jews,  and  become  any- 
thing else  than  what  they  are  to- 
day ;  and  that  there  is  no  analogy 
between  their  history  and  that  of 
any  European  nation. 

The  Jews — a  family  that  are  de- 
scended from  a  common  parentage 

nothing  was  said  as  to  who  he  really  was  ; 
and  yet  that  is  the  most  important  question 
connected  with  the  illustrious  pilgrim's 
history.  The  honours  then  shown  to  his 
memory  were  for  the  most  part  bestowed 
on  a  being  existing  only  in  the  imagina- 
tions of  his  worshippers.  Had  they  ad- 
mitted his  Gipsy  nationality,  they  would 
have  isolated  him  from  all  of  his  age,  and 
placed  his  memory,  by  contrast,  on  a 
pedestal  that  will  outlive  bronze  and 
granite.  The  people  of  England  will 
make  a  sorry  exhibition  of  themselves,  if 
such  men  as  the  Duke  of  Bedford  and 
the  Dean  of  Westminster  prove  capa- 
ble of  being  influenced  by  other  motives 
than  a  regard  for  the  evidence,  in  coming 
to  a  decision  on  the  important  matter  at 
issue. 

(161) 


1 62 


THE  PRESER  VA  TION  OF  THE  JE  WS. 


— possess  a  physiognomy  that  dis- 
tinguishes them  at  a  glance  from 
other  people.  They  hold  that,  with 
the  exception  of  themselves,  all  that 
are  descendants  from  Adam  and 
Noah  form  the  common  family  of 
mankind ;  but  that  they,  the  de- 
scendants of  Abraham  and  Sarah — 
the  third  and  last,  as  a  family,  to 
whom  a  general  revelation  was  made 
— are  distinguished  from  the  rest  of 
the  human  species,  as  the  Lord's 
aristocracy ;  and  that  to  them,  and 
them  exclusively,  was  given  the  only 
religion  of  a  divine  origin.  Besides 
that,  the  Jews  have  migrated  or 
been  scattered  in  every  direction, 
where  they  exist  within  and  inde- 
pendent of  other  nations ;  so  that 
the  race,  as  such,  could  not  be  de- 
stroyed by  what  might  happen  in 
any  particular  country,  for  others 
might  migrate  from  other  parts,  to 
contribute  to  the  number,  or  take 
the  place  of  those  that  might  have 
suffered  or  been  destroyed.  Paradox- 
ical as  it  may  appear,  the  way  to  pre- 
serve the  existence  of  a  people,  is  to 
scatter  it,  provided  it  is  a  race  total- 
ly distinct  from  those  among  whom 
it  may  be  cast,  and  has  inherent  pe- 
culiarities calculated  to  keep  it  sep- 
arate from  others ;  and  more  especi- 
ally if  it  is  also  persecuted,  or  for- 
bidden, or  barely  tolerated,  to  live 
among  others.  Its  idea  of  nation- 
ality consists  in  its  existing  every- 
where in  general,  and  nowhere  in 
particular.  As  contrasted  with  such 
a  phenomenon,  we  have  the  na- 
tionality of  Europeans  consisting 
merely  in  birth  on  the  soil — of  peo- 
ple whose  parents,  perhaps,  arrived 
from  all  parts,  and  whose  nation- 
ality and  laws,  and  even  the  name 
of  their  country,  might,  by  events, 
become  blotted  out  of  human  re- 
membrance; while  their  children 
might  acquire  or  form  a  new  nation- 
ality, by  being  born  and  reared  on 
another  territory. 

The  Duke  of  Argyll  makes  some 
strange  remarks  on  this  subject,  in 
his  Reign  of  Law.  He  says  : — "  It 


is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  the 
preservation  of  the  Jews  ....  is 
tacitly  assumed  by  many  persons  to 
come  strictly  within  the  category  of 
miraculous  events."  Why  should 
that  be  assumed,  tacitly  or  other- 
wise ?  What  if  it  is  only  a  "  vulgar 
error,"  started  by  some  person  now 
unknown,  and  echoed  by  others 
after  him  ?  It  was  surely  worth 
while  to  ascertain  whether  the  foun- 
dation was  sound  on  which  the  fol- 
lowing structure  was  built : — "  What 
is  this,"  says  a  writer  on  the  evidences 
of  Christianity,  "  but  a  miracle  1 
Connected  with  the  prophecy  which 
it  fulfils,  it  is  a  double  miracle.  Whe- 
ther testimony  can  ever  establish 
the  credibility  of  a  miracle  is  of  no 
importance  here.  This  one  is  ob- 
vious to  every  man's  senses.  All 
nations  are  its  eye-witnesses.  .  .  . 
The  laws  of  nature  have  been  sus 
pended  in  their  case." 

The  Duke  calls  it  "  a  striking  il- 
lustration how  a  departure  from  the 
*  ordinary  course  of  nature  '  may  be 
effected  through  the  instrumentality 
of  means  which  are  natural  and 
comprehensible."  One  would  think 
that  anything  that  was  effected  by 
what  was  natural  and  comprehensible 
was  no  departure  from  the  ordinary 
course  of  nature.  He  speaks  of  the 
Jews  being  kept  distinct  from  others 
by  "  superhuman  means,"  which, 
however,  he  says,  "  belong  to  the 
region  of  the  natural."  If  these 
means  "  belong  to  the  region  of  the 
natural,"  how  can  they  be  "  super- 
human," so  far  as  they  are  the  ac- 
tions of  men  ?  What  would  he  call 
the  means  which  keep  Quakers  dis- 
tinct from  the  rest  of  the  world  ? 
Protestants  from  Catholics  in  Ire- 
land ?  Native  Scotch  from  Irish,  as 
imported,  or  Scotch  of  Irish  lineage 
and  Romish  creed  ?  And  the  vari- 
ous Protestant  sects  in  England  so 
separated  from  each  other?  To 
say  nothing  of  different  races  in  Eu- 
rope, existing  under  the  same  gov- 
ernment, occupying  the  same  ter- 
ritory, living  even,  I  believe,  in  the 


THE  PRESERVATION  OF  THE  JEWS. 


163 


same  street,  and  professing  substan- 
tially the  same  religion.  Let  him 
also  turn  to  India,  where  the  castes 
have  kept  themselves  distinct  from 
each  other  from  time  immemorial, 
but  certainly  not  by  "  superhuman  " 
means.  Humble  Scotch  people 
would  indeed  be  surprised  if  told 
they  were  "  preserved  "  distinct 
from  "  thae  Irish  "  by  "  superhu- 
man "  means ;  and  they  would  be 
astounded  if  asked  to  turn  them- 
selves— -flesh,  bones  and  blood,  phy- 
siognomy, mind  and  religion — into 
Jews,  like  those  they  have  living 
among  them  ;  or  that  these  should 
or  could  turn  themselves,  in  the 
same  way,  into  common  Scotch. 

In  Scotland  are  to  be  found 
Scotchmen  extracted  from  members 
of  most  of  the  European  nations, 
who  are  always  more  or  less  recip- 
rocating the  favour.  Such  is  the 
genius  of  Europeans  in  regard  to 
nationality,  which  is  exhibited  in  a 
striking  manner  in  the  United  States 
of  America.  But  it  is  not  so  in  the 
East.  Englishmen  born  there  do 
not  become  Hindoos,  Chinese,  Ja- 
panese, Hottentots,  or  Negroes,  as 
the  case  may  be.  Nor  do  Asiatics 
amalgamate  and  get  lost  among  each 
other,  although  by  despotism  and 
slavery,  polygamy  and  concubinage, 
some  of  the  more  powerful  races  or 
families  absorb  a  little  of  the  blood 
of  others.  It  has  been  the  genius 
of  almost  all,  if  not  all,  Asiatic  races, 
from  time  immemorial,  to  live  sepa- 
rate from  each  other,  as  tribes  or 
nations,  while  dwelling  in  the  same 
community  or  country — -Jews  and 
Samaritans,  Turks  and  Greeks,  Par- 
sees  and  Armenians,  and  others  un- 
necessary to  mention — and  no  one 
ever  thinks  that  these  races  are  kept 
apart  by  "  special  providence  "  or 
"  superhuman  means."  And  if  Asiat- 
ics do  that  among  themselves,  is  it 
to  be  supposed  they  would  do  other- 
wise when  they  come  in  contact  with 
the  races  of  another  continent  ?  It 
is  therefore  not  trtfe  when  the  Duke 
asserts  that  the  separate  existence 


of  the  Jews  is  "  at  variance  with  all 
other  experience  of  the  laws  which 
govern  the  amalgamation  with  each' 
other  of  different  families  of  the  hu- 
man race."*  It  is  precisely  the  con- 
trary, for  the  isolation  of  the  Jews 
is  in  exact  harmony  with  the  cus- 
toms and  genius  of  that  part  of  the 
world  where  they  originated  and 
had  their  existence  as  a  people ;  and 
which  has  been  increased  immeas- 
urably by  the  special  genius  of  their 
nation,  from  the  call  of  Abraham, 
that  it  was  to  exist  distinct  from  all 
others,  and  to  continue  so  forever. 
And  the  Jews  have  been  so  perse- 
cuted or  disliked  by  other  nations, 
that  they  have  never,  as  a  people, 
had  the  opportunity  of  "  amalga- 
mating and  becoming  lost  among 
others,"  assuming  that  they  ever  had 
the  wish  to  do  it. 

The  fact  of  the  Jews  keeping  dis- 
tinct from  others  is  a  simple  ques- 
tion, that  is  easily  understood  when 
investigated  inductively  and  on  its 
merits.  It  is  neither  miraculous,  a 
special  providence,  wonderful,  nor 
remarkable.  There  is  no  occasion 
for  the  special  interference  of  Provi- 
dence in  a  matter  that  is  settled  by 
the  Jews  on  the  one  side,  and  by 


*  Abb6  Dubois  says  : — "  In  every  coun- 
try of  the  Peninsula,  great  numbers  of 
foreign  families  are  to  be  found,  whose 
ancestors  had  been  obliged  to  emigrate 
thither,  in  times  of  trouble  or  famine, 
from  their  native  land,  and  to  establish 
themselves  amongst  strangers.  This  spe- 
cies of  emigration  is  very  common  in  all 
the  countries  of  India  ;  but  what  is  most 
remarkable  is,  that  in  a  foreign  land,  these 
emigrants  preserve,  from  generation  to  gene ^ 
ration,  their  own  language  and  national 
peculiarities.  Many  instances  might  be 
pointed  out  of  such  foreign  families,  set- 
tled four  or  five  hundred  years  in  the  dis- 
trict they  now  inhabit,  without  approx- 
imating in  the  least  to  the  manners,  fash- 
ions, or  even  to  the  language  of  the  na- 
tion where  they  have  been  for  so  many 
generations  naturalized.  They  still  pre- 
serve the  remembrance  of  their  origin, 
and  keep  up  the  ceremonies  and  usages 
of  the  land  where  their  ancestors  were 
born,  without  ever  receiving  any  tincture 
of  the  particular  habits  of  the  countries 
where  they  live." — Preface,  xvii. 


164 


THE  PRESERVATION  OF  THE  JEWS. 


the  rest  of  the  world  on  the  other. 
Perhaps  the  best  way  for  Providence 
to  preserve  the  Jews  as  they  have 
existed  since  the  dispersion  would 
have  been  merely  to  leave  them 
alone — leave  them  to  their  impeni- 
tence and  unbelief,  and  take  that 
much  care  of  them  that  is  taken  of 
ravens ;  and  that  would  consist 
with  their  relation  to  Him — that  of 
rebels  against  the  majesty  of  heaven, 
and  outcasts  from  His  presence. 
Before  asking  how  it  is  that  the 
Jews  exist  to-day,  it  would  be  well 
to  inquire  by  what  possible  process 
they  could  cease  to  be  Jews  ;  and  by 
what  human  means  they,  as  a  people, 
will  receive  Christ  as  their  Messiah, 
and  thereby  become  Christian  Jews. 
It  is  no  wonder  that  they  should  be 
Jews,  as  all  the  circumstances  that 
have  kept  them  distinct  from  others 
during  past  generations  continue  to 
keep  them  apart  at  the  present  day. 
It  is  quite  sufficient  for  the  Christian 
to  know  that  the  Jews  exist,  and 
that  they  have  fulfilled,  and  will  yet 
fulfil  the  prophecies  that  have  been 
delivered  in  regard  to  them,  and 
that  they  are  a  living  proof  of  the 
truth  of  Christianity,  without  hold- 
ing that  any  miracle  has  been 
wrought  for  that  end.  He  should  be 
more  considerate  in  his  estimate  of 
what  a  miracle  is,  and  not  maintain 
that  the  existence  of  the  Jews  is  one, 
for  nothing  having  the  decent  ap- 
pearance of  an  argument  can  be  ad- 
vanced in  support  of  such  a  theory ; 
and  far  less  should  he,  like  the  writer 
on  the  Christian  evidences  alluded 
to,  stake,  in  a  spirit  of  gambling,  the 
whole  question  of  revelation  on  his 
own  dogma,  and  according  to  his 
hypothesis  lose  it.  "  Yea,  we  estab- 
lish the  law." 

The  Duke  says,  "  The  case  of 
the  Gipsies  has  been  referred  to  as 
somewhat  parallel.  But  the  facts  of 
this  case  are  doubtful  and  obscure, 
and  such  of  them  as  we  know  in- 
volve conditions  altogether  dissimi- 
lar in  kind."  I  should  not  imagine 
that  he  knows  personally  much  of 


either,  particularly  the  Gipsies.  His 
remark  is  too  short,  vague  and  ob- 
scure to  admit  of  any  comment  be- 
ing made  on  it.  For  a  full  discus- 
sion of  the  two  questions,  I  refer 
him  to  the  History  of  the  Gipsies, 
which  was  published  a  year  before 
the  first  edition  of  the  Reign  of  Law 
appeared ;  and  two  years  before  the 
fifth  edition,  in  which  corrections 
were  made  to  meet  criticisms  on  va- 
rious matters  treated  in  it.  I  may 
add,  that  the  subject  of  the  Jews  is 
not  so  well  known  to  the  world  at 
large,  as  to  justify  the  many  positive 
assertions  that  have  been  made  in 
regard  to  them.* 

To  elucidate  the  subject  of  the 
preservation  of  the  Jews,  I  add  a 
few  extracts  from  the  Disquisition 
on  the  Gipsies. 

The  circumstances  connected  with 
the  perpetuation  of  the  Gipsy  and  Jew- 
ish races  greatly  resemble  each  other. 
Both  races  are  scattered  over  the  face 
of  the  earth.  The  Jew  has  had  a  home  ; 
he  has  a  strong  attachment  to  it,  and 
looks  forward  to  enter  it  at  some  future 
day..  Make  the  acquaintance  of  the 
Jews,  and  you  will  find  that  each  gene- 
ration of  them  tell  their  "wonderful 
story  "  to  the  following  generation,  and 
the  story  is  repeated  to  the  following, 
and  the  following.  The  children  of 
Jews  are  taught  to  know  that  they  are 
Jews  before  they  can  even  lisp.  Soon 
do  they  know  that  much  of  the  phe- 
nomenon of  their  race,  as  regards  its 
origin,  its  history,  and  its  universality, 
to  draw  the  distinction  between  them, 
and  those  around  them  who  are  not 
Jews.  Soon  do  they  learn  how  their 
race  has  been  despised  and  persecuted, 
and  imbibe  the  love  which  their  parents 
have  for  it,  and  the  resentment  of  the 
odium  cast  upon  it  by  others.  It  has 
been  so  from  the  beginning  of  their 
history  out  of  Palestine,  and  even  while 
there.  Were  it  only  religion,  considered 
in  itself,  that  has  kept  the  Jews  together 
as  a  people,  they  might  have  got  Jost 
among  the  rest  of  mankind  ;  for  among 
the  Jews  there  are  to  be  found  the 
rankest  of  infidels  ;  even  Jewish  priests 

*  What  follows  did  not  appear  in  the 
paper  sent  to  the  Scottish  clergy. 


THE  PRESERVATION  OF  THE  JEWS. 


I65 


will  say  that,  "  it  signifies  not  what  a 
man's  religion  may  be,  if  he  is  only  sin- 
cere in  it."  Is  it  a  feeling,  or  a  know- 
ledge, of  religion  that  leads  a  Jewish 
child,  almost  the  moment  it  can  speak, 
to  say  that  it  is  a  Jew  ?  It  is  simply  the 
workings  of  the  phenomena  of  race  that 
account  for  this  ;  the  religion  peculiar  to 
Jews  having  been  introduced  among 
them  centuries  after  their  existence  as  a 
people.  Being  exclusively  theirs  in  its 
very  nature,  they  naturally  follow  it,  as 
other  people  do  theirs ;  but  although, 
from  the  nature  of  its  origin,  it  presents 
infinitely  greater  claims  upon  their  in- 
telligent belief  and  obedience,  they  have 
yielded  no  greater  submission  to  its 
spirit  and  morals,  or  even  to  its  forms, 
than  many  other  people  have  done  to 
their  religion,  made  up,  as  that  has 
been,  of  the  most  fabulous  superstition, 
on  the  principle,  doubtless,  that 

"The  zealous  crowds  in  ignorance  adore, 
And  still,  the  less  they  know,  they  fear 
the  more."* 

The  Jews  being  a  people  before  they  re- 
ceived the  religion  by  which  they  are  dis- 
tinguished, it  follows  that  the  religion, 
in  itself,  occupies  a  position  of  secondary 
importance,  although  the  profession  of 
it  acts  and  reacts  upon  the  people,  in 
keeping  them  separate  from  others. 
The  most,  then,  that  can  be  said  of  the 
religion  of  the  Jews  is,  that,  following 
in  the  wake  of  their  history  as  a  people, 
it  is  only  one  of  the  pillars  by  which  the 
building  is  supported.!  If  inquiry  is 


*  The  following  extract  from  Leaves 
from  the  Diary  of  a  Jewish  Minister, 
published  in  the  'Je^uish  Messenger,  on 
the  4th  April,  1862,  may  not  be  uninter- 
esting to  the  Christian  reader: — 

"  In  our  day,  the  conscience  of  Israel 
is  seldom  troubled  ;  it  is  of  so  elastic  a 
character,  that,  like  gutta  percha  [india- 
rubber?],  it  stretches  and  is  compressed, 
according  to  the  desire  of  its  owner.  We 
seldom  hear  of  a  troubled  conscience. 
.  .  .  .  Not  that  we  would  assert  that 
our  people  are  without  a  conscience  ;  we 
merely  state  that  we  seldom  hear  of  its 
troubles.  It  is  more  than  probable,  that 
when  the  latent  feeling  is  aroused  on 
matters  of  religion,  and  for  a  moment 
they  have  an  idea  that  '  their  soul  is  not 
well,'  they  take  a  homoeopathic  dose  of 
spiritual  medicine,  and  then  feel  quite 
convalescent"  (p.  503). 

f  The  only  part  of  the  religion  of  the 
jfu\vs  having  an  origin  prior  to  the  estab- 


made  of  Jewish  converts  to  Christianity, 
we  will  find  that,  notwithstanding  their 
having  separated  from  their  brethren, 
on  points  of  creed,  they  hold  themselves 
as  much  Jews  as  before.  But  the  con- 
versions of  Jews  are, 

"  Like  angels'  visits,  few  and  far  between." 

In  the  case  of  individuals  forsaking  the 
Jewish,  and  joining  the  Christian, 
Church,  that  is,  believing  in  the  Messiah 
having  come,  instead  of  to  come,  it  is 
natural,  I  may  say  inevitable,  for  them 
to  hold  themselves  Jews.  They  have 
feelings  which  the  world  cannot  under- 
stand. But  beyond  the  nationality, 
physiognomy,  and  feelings  of  Jews, 
there  are  no  points  of  difference,  and 
there  ought  to  be  no  grounds  of  offence, 
between  them  and  the  ordinary  inhab- 
itants (p.  473). 

Substitute  the  language  and  signs  of 
the  Gipsies  for  the  religion  of  the  Jews, 
and  we  find  that  the  rearing  of  the 
Gipsies  is  almost  identical  with  that  of 
the  Jews  ;  and  in  the  same  manner  do 
they  hold  themselves  to  be  Gipsies. 
But  the  one  can  be  Gipsies,  though 
ignorant  of  their  language  and  signs, 
and  the  other,  Jews,  though  ignorant 
of  their  religion  ;  the  mere  sense  of 
tribe  and  community  being  sufficient  to 
constitute  them  members  of  their  respec- 
tive nationalities  (p.  475). 

But  how  different  is  the  posititn 
which  the  Jews  occupy  towards  the  rest 
of  the  world  !  They  are  certainly  quiet 
and  inoffensive  enough  as  individuals, 
or  as  a  community;  whence,  then, 
arises  the  dislike  which  most  people 
have  for  them  ?  The  Gipsies  may  be 
said  to  be,  in  a  sense,  strangers  amongst 


lishment  of  the  Mosaic  law  was  circum- 
cision, which  was  ..termed  the  covenant 
made  by  God  with  Abraham  and  his  seed 
(Gen.  xvii.  10-14).  The  abolition  of  idols, 
and  the  worship  of  God  alone,  are  pre- 
sumed, although  not  expressed.  The 
Jews  lapsed  into  gross  idolatry  while  in 
Egypt,  but  were  not  likely  to  neglect  cir- 
cumcision, as  that  was  necessary  to 
maintain  a  physical  uniformity  among  the 
race,  but  did  not  enter  into  the  wants, 
and  hopes,  and  fears  inherent  in  the  hu- 
man breast,  and  stimulated  by  the  daily 
exhibition  of  the  phenomena  of  its  ex- 
istence. The  second  table  of  the  moral 
law  was,  of  course,  written  upon  the 
hearts  of  the  Jews,  in  common  with  those 
of  the  Gentiles  (Rom.  ii.  14, 15).  (P.  474.) 


1 66 


THE  PRESERVATION  OF  THE  JEWS. 


us,  because  they  have  never  been  ac- 
knowledged by  us  ;  but  the  Jews  are, 
to  a  certain  extent,  strangers  under  any 
circumstances,  and,  more  or  less,  look 
to  entering  Palestine  at  some  day,  it 
may  be  this  year,  or  the  following.  If  a 
Christian  asks,  "  Who  are  the  Jews,  and 
what  do  they  here  ?  "  the  reply  is  very 
plain  : — "  They  are  rebels  against  the 
Majesty  of  Heaven,  and  outcasts  from 
His  presence."  They  are  certainly 
entitled  to  every  privilege,  social  and 
political,  which  other  citizens  enjoy ; 
they  have  a  perfect  right  to  follow  their 
own  religion  ;  but  other  people  have  an 
equal  right  to  express  their  opinion  in 
regard  to  it  and  them  (p.  484). 

The  position  which  Jews  occupy 
among  Christians  is  that  which  they 
occupy  among  people  of  a  different 
faith.  They  become  obnoxious  to  peo- 
ple everywhere ;  for  that  which  is  so 
foreign  in  its  origin,  so  exclusive  in  its 
habits  and  relations,  and  so  conceited 
and  antagonistic  in  its  creed,  will  always 
be  so,  go  where  it  may.  Besides,  they 
will  not  even  eat  what  others  have  slain  ; 
and  hold  other  people  as  impure.  The 
very  conservative  nature  of  their  creed 
is,  to  a  certain  extent,  against  them  ; 
were  it  aggressive,  like  the  Christian's, 
with  a  genius  to  embrace  all  within  its 
fold,  it  would  not  stir  up,  or  permanently 
retain,  the  same  ill-will  toward  the 
people  who  profess  it ;  for  being  of  that 
nature  which  retires  into  the  corner  of 
selfish  exclusiveness,  people  will  natu- 
rally take  a  greater  objection  to  them. 
Then,  the  keen,  money-making,  and  ac- 
cumulating habits  of  the  Jews  make 
them  appear  selfish  to  those  around 
them  ;  while  the  greediness  and  utter 
want  of  principle  that  characterize  some 
of  them  have  given  a  bad  reputation  to 
the  whole  body,  however  unjustly  it  is 
applied  to  them  as  a  race  (p.  486). 

The  circumstances  attending  the 
Jews'  entry  into  any  country  to-day  are 
substantially  what  they  were  before  the 
advent  of  Christ ;  centuries  before  which 
era,  they  were  scattered,  in  great  num- 
bers, over  most  parts  of  the  world  ;  hav- 
ing synagogues,  and  visiting  or  looking 
to  Jerusalem,  as  their  home,  as  Catho- 
lics, in  the  matter  of  religion,  have 
looked  to  Rome.  In  going  abroad,  Jews 
would  as  little  contemplate  forsaking 
their  own  religion,  and  worshipping  the 
gods  of  the  heathen,  as  do  Christians 
to-day  in  Oriental  countries  ;  for  they 
were  as  thoroughly  persuaded  that  their 


religion  was  divine,  and  all  others  the 
inventions  of  man,  as  are  Christians  of 
theirs.  Then  it  was  a  religion  exclu- 
sively Jewish,  that  is,  the  people  follow- 
ing it  were,  with  rare  exceptions, 
exclusively  Jews  by  nation.  The  ill- 
will  which  all  these  circumstances, 
and  the  very  appearance  of  the  peo- 
ple themselves,  have  raised  against 
the  Jews,  and  the  persecutions,  of  vari- 
ous kinds,  which  have  universally  follow- 
ed, have  widened  the  separation  between 
them  and  other  people,  which  the  genius 
of  their  religion  made  so  imperative,  and 
their  feelings  of  nationality — nay,  family 
— so  exclusive.  Before  the  dispersion, 
Palestine  was  their  home  ;  after  the  dis- 
persion, the  position  and  circumstances 
of  those  abroad  at  the  time  underwent 
no  change  ;  they  would  merely  contem- 
plate their  nation  in  a  new  aspect — 
that  of  exiles,  and  consider  themselves, 
for  the  time  being,  at  home  wherever 
they  happened  to  be.  Those  that  were 
scattered  abroad,  by  the  destruction  of 
Jerusalem,  would,  in  their  persons,  con- 
firm the  convictions  of  the  others,  and 
reconcile  them  to  the  idea,  that  the 
Jewish  nation,  as  such,  was  abroad  on 
the  face  of  the  earth  ;  and  each  genera- 
tion of  the  race  would  entertain  the 
same  sentiments.  After  this,  as  before 
it,  it  can  scarcely  be  said  that  the  Jews 
have  ever  been  tolerated  ;  if  not  actually 
persecuted,  they  have,  at  least,  always 
been  disliked,  or  despised.  The  whole 
nation  having  been  scattered  abroad, 
with  everything  pertaining  to  them  as  a 
nation,  excepting  the  temple,  the  high- 
priesthood,  and  the  sacrifices,  with  such 
an  ancient  history,  and  so  unequivocally 
divine  a  religion,  so  distinct  from,  and 
obnoxious  to,  those  of  other  nations,  it 
is  no  wonder  that  they,  the  common 
descendants  of  Abraham  and  Sarah, 
should  have  ever  since  remained  a  dis- 
tinct people  in  the  world  ;  as  all  the  cir- 
cumstances surrounding  them  have  uni- 
versally remained  the  same  till  to-day 
(p.  487). 

A  Jew  of  to-day  has  a  much  greater 
aversion  to  forsake  the  Jewish  commu- 
nity than  any  other  man  has  to  re- 
nounce his  country  ;  and  his  associa- 
tions of  nationality  are  manifested 
wherever  a  Jewish  society  is  to  be 
found,  or  wherever  he  can  meet  with 
another  Jew.  This  is  the  view  which 
he  takes  of  his  race,  as  something  dis- 
tinct from  his  religion  ;  for  he  contem- 
plates himself  as  being  of  that  people— 


THE  PRESERVATION  OF  THE  JEWS. 


I67 


of  the  same  blood,  features,  and  feel- 
ings, all  children  of  Abraham  and  Sarah 
— that  are  to  be  found  everywhere  ;  that 
part  of  it  to  which  he  has  an  aversion 
being  only  such  as  apostatize  from  his 
religion,  and  more  particularly  such  as 
embrace  the  Christian  faith.  In  speak- 
ing of  Jews,  we  are  too  apt  to  confine 
our  ideas  exclusively  to  a  creed,  forget- 
ting that  Jews  are  a  race  ;  and  that 
Christian  Jews  are  Jews  as  well  as 
Jewish  Jews.  Were  it  possible  to  bring 
about  a  reformation  among  the  Jews,  by 
which  synagogues  would  embrace  the 
Christian  faith,  we  would  see  Jewish 
Christian  churches  ;  the  only  difference 
being,  that  they  would  believe  in  him 
whom  their  fathers  pierced,  and  lay 
aside  only  such  of  the  ceremonies  of 
Moses  as  the  Gospel  had  abrogated. 
If  a  movement  of  that  kind  were  once 
fairly  afoot,  by  which  was  presented  to 
the  Jew,  his  people  as  a  community, 
however  small  it  might  be,  there  would 
be  a  great  chance  of  his  becoming  a 
Christian,  in  one  sense  or  other :  he 
could  then  assume  the  position  of  a  pro- 
testing Jew,  holding  the  rest  of  his  coun- 
trymen in  error  ;  and  his  own  Christian- 
Jewish  community  as  representing  his 
race,  as  it  ought  to  exist.  At  present, 
the  few  Christian  Jews  find  no  others 
of  their  race  with  whom  to  form  asso- 
ciations as  a  community ;  so  that,  to  all 
intents  and  purposes,  they  feel  as  if  they 
were  a  sort  of  outcasts,  despised  and 
hated  by  those  of  their  own  race,  and 
separated  from  the  other  inhabitants  by 
a  natural  law,  over  which  neither  have 
any  control,  however  much  they  may 
associate  with  and  respect  each  other 
(p.  488). 

The  main  prop  of  a  Jew  for  remain- 
ing a  Jew,  in  regard  to  religion,  rests 
much  more  upon  the  wonderful  phe- 
nomena connected  with  the  history  of 
his  nation — its  antiquity,  its  associations, 
its  universality,  and  the  length  of  time 
which  it.  has  existed,  since  its  dispersion, 
distinct  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  and 
so  unique  (as  he  imagines),  that  he  at 
once  concludes  it  must  have  the  special 
approbation  of  God  for  the  position 
which  it  occupies  ;  which  is  very  true, 
although  it  proceeds  from  a  different 
motive  than  that  which  the  Jew  so 
vainly  imagines.  The  Jew  imagines 
that  God  approves  of  his  conduct,  in  his 
stubborn  rebellion  to  the  claims  of 
Christianity,  because  he  finds  his  race 
existing  so  distinct  from  the  rest  of  the 


world  ;  whereas,  if  he  studies  his  own 
Scriptures,  he  will  see  that  the  condition 
of  his  race  is  the  punishment  due  to  its 
rebellion  (p.  490). 

The  history  of  the  Jews  acts  as  a 
spell  upon  the  unfortunate  Jew,  and 
proves  the  greatest  bar  to  his  conversion 
to  Christianity.  He  vainly  imagines 
that  his  race  stands  out  from  among  all 
the  races  of  mankind,  by  a  miracle, 
wrought  for  that  purpose,  and  with  the 
special  approbation  of  God  upon  it,  for 
adhering  to  its  religion  ;  and  that,  there- 
fore, Christianity  is  a  delusion  (p.  491). 

Christians  not  only  flatter  but  delude 
the  Jew,  when  they  say  that  his  race  is 
"  purity  itself;  "  they  greatly  flatter  and 
delude  him,  when  they  say  that  the  phe- 
nomenon of  its  existence,  since  the  dis- 
persion, is  miraculous.  There  is  nothing 
miraculous  about  it.  There  is  nothing 
miraculous  about  the  perpetuation  of 
Quakerdom ;  yet  Quakerdom  has  existed 
for  two  centuries.  Although  Quakerdom 
is  but  an  artificial  thing,  that  proceeded 
out  from  among  common  English  peo- 
ple, it  has  somewhat  the  appearance  of 
being  a  distinct  race,  among  those  sur- 
rounding it.  As  such,  it  appears,  at  first 
sight,  to  inexperienced  youth,  or  people 
who  have  never  seen,  or  perhaps  heard 
much  of  Quakers.  But  how  much  greater 
is  the  difference  between  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians, than  between  Quakers  and  ordi- 
nary Englishmen,  and  Americans  !  And 
how  much*  greater  the  certainty  that 
Jews  will  keep  themselves  distinct  from 
Christians,  and  all  others  in  the  world  ! 
It  must  be  self-evident  to  the  most  un- 
reflecting person,  that  the  natural  causes 
which  keep  Jews  separated  from  other 
people,  during  one  generation,  continue 
to  keep  them  distinct  during  every  other 
generation.  A  miracle,  indeed !  We 
must  look  into  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments for  miracles.  A  Jew  will  natu- 
rally delude  himself  about  the  existence 
of  his  race  since  the  dispersion  being  a 
miracle  ;  yet  not  believe  upon  a  person 
if  he  were  even  to  rise  from  the  dead 
(P-  493)  ! 

While  the  history  of  the  Jews,  since 
the  dispersion,  greatly  illustrates  that  of 
the  Gipsies,  so  does  the  history  of  the 
Gipsies  greatly  illustrate  that  of  the 
Jews.  They  greatly  resemble  each 
other.  Jews  shuffle  when  they  say  that 
the  only  difference  between  an  English- 
man and  an  English  Jew,  is  in  the  mat- 
ter of  creed  ',  for  there  is  a  great  differ- 
ence between  the  two,  whatever  they 


1 68 


THE  PRESERVATION  OF  THE  JEWS. 


may  have  in  common,  as  men  born  and 
reared  on  the  same  soil.  The  very  ap- 
pearance of  the  two  is  palpable  proof 
that  they  are  not  of  the  same  race. 
The  Jew  invariably  and  unavoidably 
holds  his  "nation  "  to  mean  the  Jewish 
people,  scattered  over  the  world  ;  and  is 
reared  in  the  idea  that  he  is,  not  only  in 
creed,  but  in  blood,  distinct  from  other 
men  ;  and  that,  in  blood  and  creed,  he 
is  not  to  amalgamate  with  them,  let 
him  live  where  he  may.  Indeed,  what 
England  is  to  an  Englishman,  this  uni- 
versally scattered  people  is  to  the  Jew  ; 
what  the  history  of  England  is  to  an 
Englishman,  the  Bible  is  to  the  Jew ; 
his  nation  being  nowhere  in  particular, 
but  everywhere,  while  its  ultimate  des- 
tiny he,  more  or  less,  believes  to  be 
Palestine.  Now,  an  Englishman  has 
not  only  been  born  an  Englishman,  but 
his  mind  has  been  cast  in  a  mould  that 
makes  him  an  Englishman  ;  so  that,  to 
persecute  him,  on  the  ground  of  his 
being  an  Englishman,  is  to  persecute 
him  for  that  which  can  never  be  changed. 
It  is  precisely  so  with  the  Jew.  His 
creed  does  not  amount  to  much,  for  it  is 
only  part  of  the  history  of  his  race,  or 
the  law  of  his  nation,  traced  to,  and 
emanating  from,  one  God,  and  Him  the 
true  God,  as  distinguished  from  the  gods 
and  lords  many  of  other  nations  :  such 
is  the  nature  of  the  Jewish  theocracy 
(P-  496). 

The  being  a  Gipsy,  or  a  Jew,  or  a 
Gentile,  consists  in  birth  and  rearing. 
The  three  may  be  born  and  brought 
up  under  one  general  roof,  members  of 
their  respective  nationalities,  yet  all 
good  Christians.  But  the  Jew,  by  be- 
coming a  Christian,  necessarily  cuts 
himself  off  from  associations  with  the 
representative  part  of  his  nation ;  for 
Jews  do  not  tolerate  those  who  forsake 
the  synagogue,  and  believe  in  Christ,  as 
the  Messiah  having  come ;  however 
much  they  may  respect  their  children, 
who,  though  born  into  the  Christian 
Church,  and  believing  in  its  doctrines, 
yet  maintain  the  inherent  affection  for 
the  associations  connected  with  the 
race,  and  more  especially  if  they  also 
occupy  distinguished  positions  in  life. 
So  intolerant,  indeed,  are  Jews  of  each 
other,  in  the  matter  of  each  choosing 
his  own  religion,  extending  sometimes 
to  assassination  in  some  countries,  and 
invariably  to  the  cruellest  persecutions 
in  families,  that  they  are  hardly  justified 
in  asking,  and  scarcely  merit,  toleration 


for  themselves,  as  a  people,  from  the 
nations  among  whom  they  live.  The 
present  Disraeli  doubtless  holds  him- 
self to  be  a  Jew,  let  his  creed  or  Chris- 
tianity be  what  it  may ;  if  he  looks  at 
himself  in  his  mirror,  he  cannot  deny  it.  * 
We  have  an  instance  in  the  Capadose 
family  becoming  and  remaining  for 
several  generations  Christians,  then  re- 
turning to  the  synagogue,  and  in  ano- 
ther generation  joining  the  Christian 
Church.  The  same  vicissitude  may  at- 
tend future  generations  of  this  family. 
There  should  be  no  great  obstacle  in  the 
way  of  it  being  allowed  to  pass  current 
in  the  world,  like  any  other  fact,  that  a 
person  can  be  a  Jew  and  at  the  same 
time  a  Christian  ;  as  we  say  that  a  man 
can  be  an  Englishman  and  a  Christian,  a 
McGregor  and  a  Christian,  a  Gipsy  and 
a  Christian,  or  a  Jew  and  a  Christian, 
even  should  he  not  know  when  his  an- 
cestors attended  the  synagogue.  Chris- 
tianity was  not  intended,  nor  is  it  capa- 
ble, to  destroy  the  nationality  of  Jews, 
as  individuals,  or  as  a  nation,  any  more 
than  that  of  other  people  (p.  497). 

In  my  associations  with  Gipsies  and 
Jews,  I  find  that  both  races  rest  upon 
the  same  basis,  viz  :  a  question  of  peo- 

Ele.  The  response  of  the  one,  as  to  who 
e  is,  is  that  he  is  a  Gipsy ;  and  of  the 
other,  that  he  is  a  Jew.  Each  of  them 
has  a  peculiarly  original  soul,  that  is 
perfectly  different  from  each  other,  and 
others  around  them  ;  a  soul  that  passes 
as  naturally  and  unavoidably  into  each 
succeeding  generation  of  the  respective 
races,  as  does  the  soul  of  the  English 
or  any  other  race  into  each  succeeding 
generation.  For  each  considers  his  na- 
tion as  abroad  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth ;  which  circumstance  will  pre- 
serve its  existence  amid  all  the  revolu- 
tions to  which  ordinary  nations  are  sub- 
ject. As  they  now  exist  within,  and 
independent  of,  the  nations  among 
whom  they  live,  so  will  they  endure  it 
these  nations  were  to  disappear  under 
the  subjection  of  other  nations,  or  be- 
come incorporated  with  them  under 
new  names.  Many  of  the  Gipsies  and 
Jews  might  perish  amid  such  con- 
vulsions, but  those  that  survived  would 
constitute  the  stock  of  their  respective 
nations ;  while  others  might  migrate 
from  other  countries,  and  contribute  to 
their  numbers  (p.  499). 

In  considering  the  phenomenon  oi 
the  existence  of  the  Jews  since  the  dis- 
persion, I  am  not  inclined  to  place  it  on 


THE  PRESERVATION  OF  THE  JEWS. 


one  of  the 
one  of  the 
one  of  the 
pressions  of 


any  other  basis  than  I  would  that  of  the 
Gipsies  ;  for,  with  both,  it  is  substan- 
tially a  question  of  people.  They  are  a 
people,  scattered  over  the  world,  like  the 
Gipsies,  and  have  a  history— the  Bible, 
which  contains  both  their  history  and 
their  laws  ;  and  these  two  contain  their 
religion.  It  would,  perhaps,  be  more 
correct  to  say  that  the  religion  of  the 
Jews  is  to  be  found  in  the  Talmud,  and 
the  other  human  compositions,  for  which 
the  race  have  such  a  superstitious  rever- 
ence ;  and  even  these  are  taken  as  in- 
terpreted by  the  Rabbis.  A  Jew  has, 
properly  speaking,  little  of  a  creed.  He 
believes  in  the  existence  of  God,  and  in 
Moses  his  prophet,  and  observes  cer- 
tain parts  of  the  ceremonial  law,  and 
some  holidays  commemorative  of  events 
in  the  history  of  his  people.  He  is  a 
Jew,  in  the  first  place,  as  a  simple  mat- 
ter of  fact,  and,  as  he  grows  up,  he  is 
made  acquainted  with  the  history  of  his 
race,  to  which  he  becomes  strongly  at- 
tached. He  then  holds  himself  to  be 
first-born  of  the  Lord," 
chosen  of  the  Eternal," 
"  Lord's  aristocracy  ;"  ex- 
amazing  import  in  his 
worldly  mind,  that  will  lead  him  to  al- 
most die  for  \i\sfaith  :  while  his  reli- 
gion is  of  a  very  low  natural  order, 
"  standing  only  in  meats  and  drinks,  and 
divers  washings,  and  carnal  ordinances," 
suitable  for  a  people  in  a  state  of  pupil- 
age. The  Jewish  mind  in  the  matter  of 
religion  is,  in  some  respects,  pre-emi- 
nently gross  and  material  in  its  nature  ; 
its  idea  of  a  Messiah  rising  no  higher 
than  a  conqueror  of  its  own  race,  who 
will  bring  the  whole  world  under  his 
sway,  and  parcel  out,  among  his  fellow- 
Jews,  a  lion's  share  of  the  spoils,  consist- 
ing of  such  things  as  the  inferior  part  of 
human  nature  so  much  craves  for.  And 
his  ideas  of  how  this  Messiah  is  to  be 
connected  with  the  original  tribes,  as 
mentioned  in  the  prophecies,  are  childish 
and  superstitious  in  the  extreme.  Writ- 
ers do,  therefore,  greatly  err,  when  they 
say,  that  it  is  only  a  thin  partition  that 
separates  Judaism  from  Christianity. 
There  is  almost  as  great  a  difference 
between  the  two,  as  there  is  between 
that  which  is  material,  and  that  which 
is  spiritual.  A  Jew  is  so  thoroughly 
bound,  heart  and  soul,  by  the  spell  which 
the  phenomena  of  his  race  exert  upon 
him,  that,  humanly  speaking,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  make  anything  of  him  in  the 
matter  of  Christianity.  And  herein,  in 


his  own  way  of  thinking,  consists  his 
peculiar  glory.  Such  being  the  case 
with  Christianity,  it  is  not  to  be  suppos- 
ed that  the  Jew  would  forsake  his  own 
religion,  and,  of  course,  his  own  people, 
and  believe  in  any  religion  having  an 
origin  in  the  spontaneous  and  gradual 
growth  of  superstition  and  imposture, 
modified,  systematized,  adorned,  or  ex- 
expanded,  by  ambitious  and  superior 
minds,  or  almost  wholly  in  the  concep- 
tions of  these  minds ;  having,  for  a  foun- 
dation, an  instinct — an  intellectual  and 
emotional  want — as  common  to  man 
as  instinct  is  to  the-  brute  creation,  for 
the  ends  which  it  has  to  serve.*  We 
cannot  separate  the  questions  of  race 
and  belief,  when  we  consider  the  Jews 
as  a  people,  however  it  might  be  with 
individuals  among  them  (p.  501.) 

Amid  all  the  obloquy  and  contempt 
cast  upon  his  race,  amid  all  the  perse- 
cutions to  which  it  has  been  exposed, 
the  Jew,  with  his  inherent  conceit  in 
having  Abraham  for  his  father,  falls 
back  upon  the  history  of  his  nation, 
with  the  utmost  contempt  for  every- 
thing else  that  is  human  ;  forgetting 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  the  "  first 
being  last."  He  boasts  that  his  race,  , 
and  his  only,  is  eternal,  and  that  all 
other  men  get  everything  from  him ! 
He  vainly  imagines  that  the  Majesty  of 
Heaven  should  have  made  his  dispensa- 
tions to  mankind  conditional  upon  any- 
thing so  unworthy  as  his  race  has  so 
frequently  shown  itself  to  be.  If  he 
has  been  so  favoured  by  God,  what  can 
he  point  to  as  the  fruits  of  so  much 
loving-kindness  shown  him?  What  is 
his  nation  now,  however  numerous  it 
may  be,  but  a  ruin,  and  its  members, 
but  spectres  that  haunt  it  ?  And  what 
has  brought  it  to  its  present  condition  ? 
"  Its  sins."  Doubtless,  its  sins ;  but 
what  particular  sins  ?  And  how  are 
these  sins  to  be  put  away,  seeing  that 
the  temple,  the  high-priesthood,  and  the 
sacrifices  no  longer  exist  ?  Or  what 
effort,  by  such  means  as  offer,  has  ever 
been  made  to  mitigate  the  wrath  of  God, 
and  prevail  upon  Him  to  restore  the 
people  to  their  exalted  privileges  ?  Or 
what  could  they  even  propose  doing,  to 
bring  about  that  event  ?  Questions  like 
these  involve  the  Jewish  mind  in  a 
labyrinth  of  difficulties,  from  which  it 
cannot  extricate  itself.  The  dispersion 


Quoted  at  pages  51  and  5: 


I/O 


THE  PRESERVATION  OF  THE  JEWS. 


was  not  only  foretold,  but  the  cause  of  it 
given.  The  Scriptures  declare  that  the 
Messiah  was  to  have  appeared  before 
the  destruction  of  the  temple  ;  and  the 
time  of  his  expected  advent,  according 
to  Jewish  traditions,  coincided  with  that 
event.  It  is  eighteen  centuries  since  the 
destruction  of  the  temple,  before  which 
the  Messiah  was  to  have  come  ;  and  the 
Jew  still  "  hopes  against  hope,"  and,  if 
it  is  left  to  himself,  will  do  so  till  the  day 
of  judgment,  for  such  a  Messiah  as  his 
earthly  mind  seems  to  be  only  capable 
of  contemplating.  Has  he  never  read 


the  New  Testament,  and  reflected  on 
the  sufferings  of  him  who  was  meek  and 
lowly,  or  on  those  of  his  disciples,  in- 
flicted by  his  ancestors,  for  generations, 
when  he  has  come  complaining  of  the 
sufferings  to  which  his  race  has  been 
exposed  ?  He  is  entitled  to  sympathy, 
for  all  the  cruelties  with  which  his  race 
has  been  visited ;  but  he  could  ask  it 
with  infinitely  greater  grace,  were  he  to 
offer  any  for  the  sufferings  of  the  early 
Christians  and  their  divine  master,  or 
were  he  even  to  tolerate  any  of  his 
race  following  him  to-day  (p.  503). 


INDEX, 


PAGE 

AFRICANS,  the  prejudice  against  them  in  the  United  States,    ....     146 
AMERICA  as  a  field  for  the  study  of  snakes,      .        .        .       8,  16-18,  26,  29,  36,  37 

AMERICAN  GIPSIES, 141 

AMERICAN  SCIENCE  CONVENTION  on  snakes, 36 

APES,  the,  on  the  Rock  of  Gibraltar, 45 

APOSTLE,  Mill  as  an, 105 

APPLETON'S  CYCLOPAEDIA  on  the  skunk, 44 

ARGYLL,  THE  DUKE  OF,  his  singular  ideas  regarding  the  preservation  of  the 

Jews, 162 

On  the  Jews  and  Gipsies, 164 

ASIATIC  RACES,  how  they  keep  distinct  from  each  other,        .        .        .        .     163 
ATHENAEUM,  THE,  its  opinion  on  Mill's  History  of  India,       .        .        .        .71 

On  the  disappearance  of  the  Gipsies,      . mil 

*  ATLANTIC  MONTHLY,  THE,  on  the  Gipsies  and  John  Bunyan,       .        .        .  ni6o 

AUDUBON  on  the  hatching  of  crocodiles'  eggs, 32 

AURELIUS,  MARCUS,  on  the  contemplation  of  death, 78 

BACON,  LORD,  his  philosophy, 4 

On  Antichrist, 68 

BAIN,  A.,  his  assistance  to  Mill, 104 

BAIRD,  REV.  JOHN,  of  Yetholm,  on  the  Gipsy  language,         .        .        .        .  #115 

On  the  mixture  of  the  Gipsy  blood, #132 

BANKS,  SIR  JOSEPH,  his  eulogium  on  Waterton's  Wanderings,     .  46 

BATS  do  not  lay  eggs, .      31 

BEARDS,  by  whom  only  they  were  lately  worn, 156 

BEDFORD,  THE  DUKE  OF,  erects  a  statue  to  Bunyan  at  Bedford,  .        .        .  ni6i 

BENTHAM,  JEREMY,  James  Mill's  letter  to  him, 108 

His  creed  and  system, 77,  85,  109 

BLACKWOOD'S  MAGAZINE,  its  opinion  of  Mill's  History  of  India,          .        .      71 

On  Mill  as  a  servant  of  the  East  India  Company, 72 

On  the  services  Mill  rendered  to  his  generation, 105 

On  Billy  Marshall  and  his  descendants, 1 14 

Description  of  Old  Will  Faa,  of  Yetholm, 120 

On  the  History  of  the  Gipsies, 153,154 

On  John  Bunyan, 158,  #160 

BORROW,  GEORGE,  omits  to  notice  what  others  have  said  of  the  Gipsies,        .     112 
Scantiness  of  his  information,  .......      113,120 

His  writings  sketches  only, 113 

His  reflections  on  the  destiny  of  the  Gipsies,  .         113,  114,  124-127,  131,  132 

(171) 


172  INDEX. 

PAGE 

BORROW,  GEORGE,  his  speculations  regarding  the  origin  of  the  Gipsies,  .     114 

His  visit  to  Yetholm  : — The  secrecy  of  the  Gipsies  in  regard  to  the  lan- 
guage, 115;  the  extent  of  the  queen's  knowledge  of  it,  Ib. ;  the  pe- 
culiarities of  the  tribe  in  regard  to  it,  116  ;  an  appointment,  a  disap- 
pointment, and  a  meeting  at  the  fair,  Ib. ;  the  queen  and  her  niece, 
Ib. ;    peculiarities  of  Yetholm   mixed  Gipsies,  117,  118  ;    Thomas 
Herne's  family,  #117,  131  ;  his  estimate  sf  the  extent  of  the  lan- 
guage, 118;    the   character  of  the   queen,   Ib. ;   his   definition  of 
Nokkum,  niK)  ;  not  a  judge  of  character,  Ib.;  his  visit  to  Yetholm 
in  some  respects  unsatisfactory,  Ib. 
Gipsy  surnames,       .        .         .         .         .         .        .         .        .         .        .121 

Gipsies  stealing  children,         .         .         .         .        .         .        .         .121,122 

Gipsies  harbouring  priests,  and  running  wenches, 122 

His  strange  contradictions  about  the  Gipsies  speaking  their  language,  .  123 
His  description  of  three  kinds  of  travelling  people  in  England,  130,  131,  133 
Mr.  Borrow  a  strange  phenomenon  connected  with  the  Gipsies,  .  .132 
On  the  English  Gipsy  language,  .  .  .  .  .  138 

On  the  hatred  the  Gipsies  have  for  other,  people, #149 

BREWSTER,.  SIR  DAVID,  his  letter  to  Prof.  James  Forbes,  .  .  .  .81 
BRIGHT,  DJR.,  on  the  secrecy  of  the  Gipsies  in  regard  to  their  language,  123,  140 
BRITANNICA,  ENCYLOP^EDIA,  THE,  does  not  allude  to  snakes  swallowing 

.    their  young, 10 

On  the  hatching  of  crocodiles'  eggs, 32 

BRITISH  QUARTERLY  REVIEW,  THE,  on  the  Gipsies  and  John  Bunyan,       .  ;zi6o 

v  BUCKLAND,  FRANK,  on  vipers  swallowing  their  young,  ...     8,  14,  23,  ^39 

Requested  to  make  experiments  on  the  subject,      .        .        .        .13,14,24 

On  snakes  shedding  their  skins,       .         ..        .         .        .        .        .        .    #23 

On  the  hatching  of  their  eggs, 3X»  32 

BUFFALOES,  how  they  protect  their  young  against  wolves,  ....  45 
BUNSEN,  CHEVALIER,  on  sound  judgments  and  shallow  minds,  .  .  .153 

BUNYAN,  JOHN,  on  child-stealing, 122 

His  description  of  what  he  was,  and  what  he  was  not,    .         .        .        .157 

The  penalties  attaching  to  the  name  of  Gipsy, 157 

His  name  calculated  to  raise  up  that  of  the  Gipsy  tribe,  .  .  .158 
The  injustice  of  his  biographers  towards  his  memory,  .  .  .  .158 

His  nationality  still  unacknowledged, 158 

He  might  have  written  works  in  the  Gipsy  language,      .        .        .        .     1 59 

His  most  probable  pedigree  as  a  Gipsy, 1 59 

The  first  of  eminent  Gipsies  known  to  the  world, 1 59 

A  Scottish  Gipsy  family  that  illustrates  that  of  Bunyan,         .        .        .     1 59 

.Has  a  statue  raised  to  his  memory  at  Bedford, ni6i 

BURR,  HIGFORD,  on  snakes  shedding  their  skins,  ' ^22 

BUTLER'S  ANALOGY,  the  influence  it  had  on  James  Mill,        ....      7° 

CANTING,  the,  of  Mill, .       .       .       .      80, 107 

CAPADOSE  FAMILY,  vicissitudes  in  the  religious  history  of  the,       .        .        .168 

CARLYLE,  THOMAS,  his  so-called  anti-self-consciousness  theory,    .        .        -95 

The  opinion  of  the  Mills  regarding  him, 108 


INDEX. 


173 


PAGE 

CASTE  in  Great  Britain, 146,72147,148,150,154,155 

in  India, 163 

in  the  United.  States,      .        . 146 

CATS  will  generally  catch  rats  only  under  certain  circumstances,      .         .        .       14 

CHAMBERS'  ENCYCLOPEDIA  on  the  hatching  of  vipers' eggs,         ...      28 

,  Time  of  birth  of  vipers,  and  number  of  progeny,     .         .         .         .         .       29 

CHAMBERS'  JOURNAL  on  the  disappearance  of  the  Gipsies,     .        .        .        .  72111 

CHINA,  Gipsies  in, 141 

CICERO  on  the  belief  in  an  ancestral  religion,    .       ...        ,.        .        .  59,60,66 

On  the  existence  of  God,          .        *        .         .        .         .         .         .         79,  80 

COMTE  on  receiving  information  from  others  on  certain  subjects,      .         .         -75 
The  influence  his  Traite  de  Legislation  had  on  Mill,      .         .         .         .77 

On  the  great  things  philosophers  are  to  do,    .         .         .         .         .         .81 

The  influence  he  had  on.  Mill's  Logic,    , 104 

CRABBE,  REV.  JAMES,  his  mission  among  the  English  Gipsies,  .  .  .  136 
CROCODILE,  the,  how  its  eggs  are  hatched,  and  its  young  taken  care  of,  .  32 
CUMMING,  W.  GORDON*,  on  snakes  swallowing  frogs, 41 

DEER,  their  antipathy  to  the  rattlesnake, #15 

DEIFICATION  among  Pagans 7253 

DICKENS,  CHARLES,  and  the  Gipsies, 152,153 

DISRAELI,  the  present,  a  Jew  as  well  as  a  Christian, 168 

DIVINITY  STUDENTS  (SCOTCH),  the  nature  and  length  of  their  studies,         .      70 

The.  effects  that  patronage  had  on  them, 7271 

The  disadvantages  they  are  under  in  the  start  in  life,     ....    #89 

They  could  acquire  more  knowledge  of  the  world  than  they  do,     .        .    7290 

DUBOIS,  ABBE,  on  scattered  races  in  India, 72163 

EDINBURGH  REVIEW,  THE,  on  James  Mill's  reading  of  sceptical  books,        .      70 

On  Mill  as  a  servant  of  the  East  India  Company, 72 

On  his  quarrelling  with  his  friends  on  Mrs.  Taylor's  account,        .         .       99 

Its  estimate  of  Mrs.  Mill, 101 

On  Mill's  public  services,        . 105 

On  Benthamism,  and  some  of  Mill's  peculiarities, 109 

EDUCATION,  what  might  be  called  a  common  sense  and  useful  one,        .        .      84 
Among  the  Gipsies,         ........  72132,159 

ENGLISH  GIPSIES, 127-129,142 

EPICTETUS,  his. prayer, 78 

On  the  existence  of  God,        .    , -79 

On  the  lack  of  common  sense  in  some  philosophers,  ....  94 
ETHIOPIA,  the  Scottish  Gipsies  say  they  came  from,  .  .  .  .  .  72143 
ETHNOLOGY  on  its  legs, .  .112 

FA  AS,  the  Gipsy,  at  Yetholm, •     .      117,119,120 

FALL,  MRS.,  of  Dunbar,  a  Gipsy, .        .        .     144 

FIGUIER'S  Reptiles  and  Birds — How  tortoises  are  hatched,  ...  .  .  33 
FORBES,  PJROF.  JAMES,  letter  to  him  from  Sir  David  Brewster,  .  .  .81 
FRANKLIN,  BENJAMIN,  on  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 75 


174  INDEX. 

PAGE 

FRANKLIN,  BENJAMIN,  his  creed,   .       .       .       .       .       .  .       .    #75 

ERASER'S  MAGAZINE  on  Mill's  associating  with  Mrs.  Taylor,          ...      99 
FROGS  as  eaten  by  snakes,          .  ....        .  7,  27,  31,  41 

FROGS'  mode  of  propagation, 32 

GIPSIES,  probable  number  of  the,  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  .  .  .  in 
How  they  mix  their  blood  and  perpetuate  their  race,  .  .  112,  126,  127 
Their  secrecy  in  regard  to  their  language,  .  .  115,116,118,120,123 

Gipsy  surnames,  „        , 121,130 

Stealing  children,  .  „  <.>>».  .  .  .  .  121,122 
Spanish  Gipsies,  .  .  .  .  r.  '  -  •  ::.*.•'„  .  .  123-127 
Hungarian  Gipsies,  :;,:;.,_  ....  .  .  .  .  .  123,^125,138 

English  Gipsies, •   .       v!     .       127-129,142 

Irish  Gipsies,  ,        ..  129,  7*132,  141 

Education  among  the  Gipsies, ;».  #132,  159 

The  natural  perpetuation  of  the  race,      .        .        .        .     ...     133,134 

How  the  subject  should  be  investigated,          .        .        .        .        .        .134 

How  a  Gipsy  is  reared,  V ;.     "  .        .     135 

The  effects  of  the  prejudice  that  exists  against  the  Gipsy  race,  .  136,  146 
How  they  gradually  leave  the  tent,  and  acquire  settled  habits,  .  .136 

The  love  which  they  have  for  their  language, 137 

How  the  language  is  taught,  and  how  it  has  got  mixed  with  others,  .  138 
How  they  resent  the  curiosity  of  others  in  regard  to  their  language,  .  139 

American  Gipsies, 141 

The  universality  of  the  race,    i-»  -  ^4     •  ,        .        .        .        .       -'.  -    -..     141 

Its  destiny,       .' J.r  ,;.•,;      i-    •*        .     142 

The  difference  between  mixed  Gipsies  and  ordinary  natives,  .  .  .143 
Peculiarities  of  settled  Gipsies,  .  .  ,  -  „  .  .  t  .  143-145 
How  they  resent  the  prejudice  that  exists  against  them,  •  .  .  .147 

Their  ideas  of  their  social  position, 147 

How  they  "  marry  among  themselves,"  and  "  stick  to  each  other,"        .     148 

Improvement  of  the  Gipsies, 148-1 50,  1 56 

Arrival  of  the  tribe  in  Scotland,  in  1 506,          .        .        .      ">       Y        •     I5° 
Their  organization,  social  position,  and  destiny,     .        ;-      .     -  .        ,     151 
Civilized  Gipsies,     «---.-.  r,;.   .  .::<;,  ...N.  .....        ,.:,,,.        .     -  .     151 

Their  secrecy,  nature,  and  mutual  sympathies,       . .-.  ••.  .  -.., •+.+  •'   ...        .     152 

The  perpetuation  of  the  Gipsies  resembles  that  of  the  Jews,  .      164,  167,  168 

GOODE,  PROF.  G.  BROWN,  his  information  on  American  snakes,   .        .         36-38 

GOSSE,  P.  H.,  on  the  Jamaica  boa  generally, 33 

On  snakes  fascinating  birds,    .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .41 

GREEK  CHURCH,  THE,  Romanists'  aversion  to  hear  it  mentioned, .  .  .55 
It  scorns  the  claims  of  Rome,  and  denies  its  baptism,  ....  60 
Its  confessional  and  status  generally,  .  .  .  .  .  .  .61 

GRELLMANN  on  the  colour  of  the  Gipsies  as  they  become  civilized,  .  .  #125 
On  the  secrecy  of  the  Gipsies  in  regard  to  their  language,  .  .  123, 138 

GUTHRIE,  DR.  THOMAS,  on  the  effects  of  patronage  on  Scotch  divinity  stu- 
dents,   n*]\ 

His  advantages  as  a  student  and  probationer  compared  with  others,     .    ^90 


INDEX.  175 

PAGE 

HALE,  SIR  MATTHEW,  his  interview  with  Bunyan's  wife,       .        .        .        .  1 59 

HOYLAND,  JOHN,  on  Gipsy  surnames, 121 

HUMBOLDT,  as  an  ornithologist,  as  estimated  by  Waterton,     ....  39 

HUNGARIAN  GIPSIES, 123, 7*125,  138 

HUNTER,  JOHN  DUNN,  on  snakes  in  the  Western  States  of  America,    .        .  7*15 

On  the  rattlesnake  swallowing  its  young, 34 

On  the  rattlesnake  charming  or  magnetizing  birds,         .        .        ^       .  40 

How  buffaloes  protect  their  young  against  wolves,         ....  45 

INDIA,  James  Mill's  History  of,  ....          71,  85, 109 

IRISH  GIPSIES  in  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,    .        .        .     129, 7*132,  141 

JAMAICA,  experiments  on  the  boa  wanted  in, 35 

JESUITS,  Waterton  educated  by  the, 47 

The  dislike  of  other  people  for  them, 47 

The  end  of  their  teaching, 48 

Their  policy  as  described  by  Southey, #48 

The  honour  in  which  they  hold  Christ  and  his  Apostles,         ...      57 

JEWS,  the,  disliked  by  the  Gipsies, 130 

Their  language  during  the  Babylonian  captivity, 140 

The  Gipsies  marry  among  themselves,  like  the  Jews,      .  148 

Protected  by  a  cloud  while  in  the  wilderness,  .  .  .  .  .155 
A  scattered  people  before  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  .  .  .161 

The  means  of  their  dispersion, 161 

The  Jews  an  exclusive  family,  possessing  an  exclusive  religion,       .        .162 
Their  peculiar  nature,  special  genius,  and  persecution  keep  them  dis- 
tinct from  others, 163 

The  isolation  of  the  Jews  effected  entirely  by  natural  causes,          .        .164 

How  a  Jew  is  reared, 164 

His  religion  a  secondary  consideration, 164 

The  indifference  of  many  Jews  to  their  religion, #165 

The  religion  of  the  Jews  previous  to  the  Mosaic  law,  .  .  .  .  7*165 
The  position  they  occupy  in  the  world  to-day,  .  .  .  .  .165 
How  they  were  affected  by  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  .  •  .  .166 
The  light  in  which  they  look  on  their  race  and  religion,  .  .  .166 
The  phenomena  of  their  race  the  greatest  bar  to  their  conversion  to 

Christianity, 167 

The  comparison  and  contrast  between  an  Englishman  and  an  English  Jew,  1 67 
How  Jews  tolerate  each  other  in  the  matter  of  religion,  .  .  .168 
The  profession  of  Christianity  does  not  destroy  the  nationality  of  Jews,  168 
The  peculiar  genius  of  the  Jews  as  a  scattered  people,  .  .  .  .168 
Their  religion,  and  the  light  in  which  they  look  on  themselves,  .  .169 

Their  ideas  of  a  Messiah, 169 

The  phenomenon  of  the  Jews  as  a  scattered  people,       .        .        ...     169 

JOB  on  the  ostrich,     .        .        .        .        ...        .        .        *        .        .        .23 

On  the  mystery  of  his  existence, 81 

JOHNSON,  SAMUEL,  on  a  person  becoming  religious, 64  • 

On  a  certain  kind  of  ambition,         »        ,        , 153 


1/6  INDEX. 

PAGE 

LELAND,  C.  G.,  on  Dickens  and  the  Gipsies, 72153 

On  John  Bunyan's  nationality,         . n\6i 

LEWIS  AND  CLARKE'S  allusion  to  wolves  hunting  their  prey,         ...      45 

MARMONTEL'S  Memozres—lhe  alleged  effect  they  had  on  Mill,      .        .        93,  96 
MARRIAGE  in  connection  with  Mill,          ....  98,  99,  101,  104,  105 

METHODISM,  Mill's  allusion  to, 92,  96 

MILL,  JAMES,  his  education  for  the  Church,  and  rejection  of  all  religion,  .  69 
Becomes  a  tutor,  and  then  settles  in  London  as  an  author,  ...  69 
His  personal  character  as  described  by  his  son,  .  .  .  69,  71,  86-88 
His  religious  history  previous  to  his  becoming  a  practical  atheist,  69,  70,  76 

The  effect  that  Butler's  Analogy  had  on  him, 70 

His  reading  of  sceptical  books  while  at  college,       .         .        ...      70 

His  playing  the  hypocrite  for  the  benefit  of  the  worldly  advancement,     70,  71 
His  literary  character  as  described  by  his  son,         .        .  71,  85,  108,  109 

Becomes  the  servant  and  satellite  of  the  East  India  Company,       .         .       72 
His  careful  training  of  his  family  to  have  no  religious  belief,  ...       73 
His  ideas  on  religion  generally,        .......  73,  76,  82 

His  ideas  on  the  subject  and  standard  of  morality,  ...  73,  80 
The  odiousness  of  his  religious,  or  want  of  religious,  sentiments,  .  .  74 
His  temper,  deportment,  and  mode  of  instructing  his  children  at  home,  86,  87 

His  humble  rearing, 89 

His  unfitness  to  have  the  charge  of  children, 89 

The  estimate  he  put  on  feeling, 96 

How  he  left  the  world,    .        .        . 108 

His  ideas  on  human  life,  education,  and  government,     .        .        .     108-110 

His  letter  to  Jeremy  Bentham, 108 

MILL,  JOHN  STUART,  is  brought  up  without  any  religious  belief,  .  .  69,  73 
As  a  servant  and  satellite  of  the  East  India  Company,  .  .  .  72,91 
On  the  bad  effects  of  reticence  in  the  matter  of  religion,  ...  72 

His  aristocratic  standing  as  an  English  atheist, 72 

His  ideas  of  the  worship  of  God  in  any  form, 73 

His  ideas  on  the  subject  and  standard  of  morality,          73,  80,  85,  95,  96,  100 
On  religion  in  general,     ........  74~77>  82 

He  makes  a  religion  of  his  wife's  memory,      .        .        .        .  77 

His  philosophical  canting, 80,107 

His  Utopian  ideas  on  what  philosophers  are- to  accomplish,     .        .  8r 

Proposes  his  education  as  an  example  for  others,    .        .        .  82 

The  probable  opinion  of  the  world  in  regard  to  it,  .        .        .        .       83 

His  early "  studies,"        . '  .        .       83 

His  wonderful  acquirements, .         .        .84 

His  complete  break-down  in  defining  the  words,  idea,  and  theory,  .  84 
His  crude  ideas  regarding  education  and  the  capacity  of  children,  84,  85 

As  a  "tumbler"  in  the  "arena  of  thought," 86,  95 

As  a  speaker, .        .        .        .    #86 

As  a  teacher  of  his  brothers  and  sisters,          .        .        .        .        .         .      87 

On  the  "  corrupting  influences  "  of  boys,  and  his  lack  .of  boyish  amuse- 
ments,   '87 


INDEX. 

PAGE 

MILL,  JOHN  STUART,  how  he  ultimately  shook  himself  clear  of  his  father,  .  89 
On  the  ungodliness,  unnatural  treatment,  and  cruelty  in  his  education,  .  90 
He  begins  at  fifteen  to  be  a  "  reformer  of  the  world,"  .  .  .  90,  92 
His  life  previous  to  his  engagement  with  the  East  India  Company,  .  91 
Attacked  by  a  nervous  disorder — A  "  crisis  in  his  mental  history,"  .  92 
How  he  emerged  from  it,  with  the  results  it  had  on  him,  .  93 

The  apparent  cause  of  the  disorder,  .  .  .  .  .  94 

His  estimate  of  the  break-down  in  his  father's  system  of  instruction,  .  95 
His  crude  ideas  regarding  the  "  basis  of  his  philosophy  of  life,"  .  .  95 
His  ideas  of  the  cultivation  of  the  feelings,  music,  poetry,  and  human 

affections, 96 

The  treatment  he  should  have  had  during  the  "crisis  in  his  mental 

history,"  .  . 94,  96 

The  extravagant  language  inscribed  on  his  wife's  tomb,  .  .  .  lor 
His  deficiency  in  looking  at  two  sides,  not  to  say  all  sides,  of  a  question,  101 

Egotism  as  part  of  his  character, 83,102,108,110 

The  firm  of  Mill,  Son  &  Co. — Its  establishment,  principles,  and  sign  or 

coat-of-arms,        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .102 

The  loss  he  sustained  intellectually  by  the  death  of  his  father,  .  .102 

His  "  apostleship  "  that  of  rank  atheism, 105 

His  principles  destructive  of  the  opinions  and  institutions  of  his  country,  105 
The  mischief-making  tendencies  of  his  nature  and  teaching,  .  .  105,  no 
A  fanatic  as  judged  by  the  standard  of  his  father,  .  .  .  .106 

A  made  or  manufactured  man,  as  described  by  himself,  .  ..  .106 

Educated  and  trained  like  a  stalled  ox, 106 

Much  of  a  demagogue  in  his  principles  and  practices,  .  .  .  .106 

His  crude  and  raw-lad-like  peculiarities, 1 06,  107 

His  deficiency  in  common  sense,  and  delicacy  or  manliness  of  feeling,  94,  107 
His  ideas  regarding  Carlyle,  ........  108 

His  various  changes, no 

An  estimate  of  some  aspects  of  his  character, no 

MILL,  MRS.,  her  memory  made  a  religion  of  by  her  husband,  ....  77 

Was  she  also  an  atheist,  like  himself? 78,  99 

His  regard  for  her  the  main  reason  for  writing  his  Autobiography,  .  97 

How  Mill  made  her  acquaintance, 97 

Her  talents,  and  the  great  influence  she  exercised  over  him,          .        .      97 
Leaves  her  husband,  Mr.  Taylor,  for  the  society  of  Mill,  97 

Repudiation  of  criminality  in  the  relation,        ......      98 

Her  intimacy  with  Mill  a  source  of  bitterness  to  her  husband,  .  .  99 
And  the  cause  of  a  separation  between  Mill  and  his  friends,  ...  99 
The  peculiar  ideas  of  Mill  and  Mrs.  Taylor  on  the  subject  of  liberty,  .  99 
The  uncertainty  of  Mrs.  Taylor's  support  while  separated  from  her 

husband, 100 

The  death  of  Mr.  Taylor,  and  the  marriage  of  the  widow  to  Mill,  .  100 
Her  death  at  Avignon,  and  the  epitaph  placed  on  her  tomb,  .  .  .  101 

Her  many  exalted  qualities,  as  described  by  Mill, 102 

The  great  service  she  was  to  him  in  his  literary  enterprises,  .  .  99,  103 

The  part  she  had  in  his  various  works, 103-105 

12 


178  INDEX. 

PAGE 

MILL,  MRS.,  in  what  way  did  she  acquire  all  the  knowledge  she  possessed  ?    .    105 

MIRACLES,  the  nature  of, 161,  162 

MONOGRAPHERS,  White  of  Selborne  on  .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .17 

MOORE,  NORMAN,  his  high  eulogium  on  Waterton  not  sustained  by  facts,  40, 42, 48, 49 
His  use  of  improper  language  when  alluding  to  others,  ....      48 

MORMONISM,  the  hold  it  has  on  its  followers 53 

NATURALISTS  should  be  guided  mainly  by  facts  in  their  researches,  .  .  16 

Generally  men  of  humanity  and  intelligence, 18 

Closet,  Waterton's  antipathy  to, 42,  44,  47 

NATURAL  HISTORY,  how  researches  should  be  conducted  in,  3, 18,  28,  34,  36 
Of  man  in  his  apostacy  from  God, #53 

NATURAL  RELIGION,  see  Paganism. 

NOVELISTS,  the  general  intellectual  character  of, 152 

OPOSSUM,  peculiarities  of  the,   .        .        .        .        .  .        .        .        .19 

OSTRICH,  the,  as  described  by  Job, 23 

OWL,  peculiarities  of  the, #93 

PAGANISM,  the  difficulty  in  converting  a  people  from, 49 

The  sacrifices  of  the  Gentiles,  the  prayer  of  Plato,  and  the  sacrifice  of 

Socrates, 51 

Natural  religion  apparently  the  corruption  of  an  original  revelation,       .       5 1 

Natural  religion,  as  described  by  St.  Paul, 51 

The  difficulties  attending  the  establishment  of  a  religion,       .        .        .52 

St.  Paul  taken  for  a  god  on  two  occasions, 52,  54 

The  establishment  of  Mormonism, 53 

Human  Nature  capable  of  setting  up  a  worship  of  its  own,     .        .        -53 
And  converting  a  revelation  into  a  religion  of  nature,     .        .        .         49,  53 
Deification  among  the  ancient  Pagans,  .         .         .        .        .        .        •    ^53 

The  natural  history  of  man  in  the  matter  of  religion,      ....    #53 

The  religion  of  the  Athenians, 58,  79,  82 

Contrast  between  the  claims  of  the  priests  of  modern  and  ancient 

Rome, 59 

Cicero  on  an  ancestral  religion, 59,  60,  66 

Its  foundation  the  authority  of  the  priests  and  tradition,  59 

Paganism  in  some  respects  tolerant, 59 

Plutarch  on  the  "  agreeable  things  "  connected  with  Paganism,      .         .       59 
It  could  neither  be  attacked  nor  defended  on  the  question  of  its  ori- 
gin,     .........«••       60,  n6 1 

It  rested  entirely  on  "  venerating  the  religion  of  its  ancestors,"      .        .      60 

It  gave  to  Romanists  most  of  their  peculiarities, 61 

How  it  existed  before  and  after  the  establishment  of  Christianity,          .      62 
The  awe  inspired  by  Pagan  temples  and  religious  groves,       .        .        .65 

The  worship  of  Diana  of  the  Ephesians, 65 

The  religions  of  ancient  and  modern  Rome  compared,  ....      66 

PALL  MALL  GAZETTE,  THE,  on  the  Gipsies, ni6o 

PAN,  Plato's  prayer  addressed  to, 51 


INDEX.  179 

PAGE 

PAN  would  not  have  been  a  god  under  certain  circumstances,  .  .  .  1 1 1 

PHILOSOPHERS,  the  great  things  they  are  to  accomplish  according  to  Mill,  .  81 

The  want  of  common  sense  among  many  of  them,  ....  94 

PIG,  the,  a  great  enemy  to  snakes, 19 

How  it  fights  the  rattlesnake,  . 19 

PLATO,  his  prayer  to  Pan, 51 

On  future  punishment, 78 

PLINY,  the  Consul,  on  the  contemplation  of  death, 78 

PLUTARCH  on  the  idea  of  kissing  a  Pagan  emperor's  foot,  ....  #54 

On  the  pleasant  associations  connected  with  the  religion  of  Pagans,      .  59 

On  the  existence  of  God, 79 

PONS  ASINORUM,  the,  of  the  Gipsy  question, 7*124 

PROTESTANTS,  the  religion  of, n6o,  64 

The  power  they  have  to  encounter  in  Romanism, 62 

PSALMIST,  THE,  on  the  mysteries  of  his  being, 81 

QUAKERS,  how  they  keep  themselves  distinct  from  others,       .        .        .     162,  167 

QUINTILIAN  on  the  existence  of  God, 79 

On  the  education  of  youth, 88 

On  common  sense,  and  premature  intellectual  efforts,     ....      88 

RABBIT,  the  American,  does  not  burrow, 20 

REES'  CYCLOPAEDIA  on  the  rattlesnake  swallowing  her  young,        ...  26 
RITUALISTS  in  the  English  Church,          .        .        .        .        .        .        .51,  ^58 

ROEBUCK,  Mill's  quarrel  with, 96 

ROMANISM  : — The  natural  adherence  of  mankind  to  the  religion  of  their  an- 
cestors,          49 

Though  springing  from  Christianity,  a  religion  of  corrupt  human  nature,  49 

The  way  in  which  it  is  taught  by  the  Church  and  its  priests,          .        .  49 

The  difficulties  of  Romanists  shaking  off  the  system,     ....  50 

In  what  it  consists, 50 

The  absolute  belief  and  submission  of  its  devotees,         ....  50 

The  dignity  and  power  of  the  priesthood, 50 

Their  worldly  position, 51 

The  miracles  of  the  Apostles  not  attempted  by  the  priests,    .        .        -53 
The  fountain  for  the  washing  away  of  sins  claimed  by  a  priest,      .         -53 
The  scorn  of  St.  Peter  when  refusing  money  to  confer  a  Christian  grace,  54 
He  commands  people  to  pray  to  GOD  for  forgiveness,  and  raises  Corne- 
lius from  the  ground, 54 

Refusal  of  divine  honours  by  St.  Paul, .54 

The  kissing  of  the  Pope's  foot, 54 

The  worship  of  the  "saints"  and  of  their  "relics,"         ....  54 

The  foundation  of  the  Church,         .         . 54 

Peter  as  a  foundation, 54 

His  character, 54 

The  aversion  of  Romanists  to  hear  the  Greek  Church  mentioned, .        .  55 
The  Pope  should  be  required  to  "prove  his  pedigree"  on  a  variety  of 

subjects, 55 


INDEX. 

PAGE 

ROMANISM  : — The  natural  perpetuation  of  a  religion  that  has  been  established,  56 

A  scepticism  that  is  common  among  Romanists, 56 

The  rearing  of  priests, 56 

Sceptical  and  atheistical  priests, 57 

The  light  in  which  priests  regard  themselves  and  those  around  them,    .  57 

The  confessional  generally,      . 58 

Peculiarities  of  priests, 58 

The  power  of  the  priests  of  modern  and  ancient  Rome  compared,         .  59 

The  absolute  belief  of  Romanists  under  any  circumstances,  ...  60 

Christianity  originated  in  a  civilized  age,  and  is  based  on  facts,     .        .  60 

The  fight  between  it  and  Paganism, .61 

A  coalition  formed, 61 

Romanism  borrowed  most  of  its  peculiarities  from  Paganism,        .        .  61 
Romanism  not  Christianity,     .        .         .        .         .        .        .        .        .61 

The  despotism  of  its  priesthood, 61,7264 

The  historical  foundation  on  which  Romanism  rests,      .        .        .        .  n6i 

The  foundation  of  corrupt  Christianity  like  that  of  a  human  religion,     .  62 

Both  can  maintain  themselves  in  the  world, 62 

The  gradual  growth  of  Romanism  and  the  powers  claimed  by  it,  ,        .  62 

Romanism  as  a  power  which  Protestantism  has  to  combat,    ...  62 

Sincere  and  nominal  Romanists,     ........  63 

The  sincerity  of  the  priests, 64 

The  peculiar  training  of  Roman  priests, 65,  ngo 

The  influence  of  the  Romanist  system  over  its  votaries, ....  65 

Its  effects  resemble,  in  some  respects,  those  of  the  goddess  Diana,        .  65 

The  belief  and  practices  of  lay  and  clerical  Romanists,  ....  66 

Comparison  between  Romanism  and  ancient  Paganism,         ...  66 

The  extent  to  which  Christianity  has  been  corrupted  by  Romanism,      .  66 

The  infallibility  of  the  Pope, 67 

The  right  of  private  judgment  among  Romanists, 67 

The  trouble  which  the  Scriptures  cause  the  Romanists,          ...  68 

Passages  in  Scripture  which  the  Pope  should  be  called  upon  to  interpret,  68 

The  second  commandment  set  aside  by  Romanists,       ....  68 

Christ's  words  on  the  perpetuity  of  the  moral  law,          ....  68 

SATURDAY  REVIEW,  THE,  on  the  disappearance  of  the  Gipsies,    .        .        .  nm 
SCEPTICS  seldom  or  never  investigate  the  religion  they  object  to,     .        .        -75 

Their  so-called  religion,  as  described  by  Mill, 77 

SCOTT,  SIR  WALTER,  his  opinion  on  the  disappearance  of  the  Gipsies,  .        .114 
On  the  difficulties  in  acquiring  the  language  of  the  Gipsies,   .        .        .124 

SKUNK,  singular  peculiarity  in  the, 44 

SNAKES,  belligerency  among, 7,15,7215 

Climbers  and  swimmers,          -. 22,  30,  41,  42 

Constrictors, 31,  41 

Eggs,  description  of, 8,  10,  14,  26,  32 

Fascinating  birds, 30,  31,  40,  41 

Feeding, 7,11,22,27,29,31,41 

Hatching  of  their  eggs,  probable  time  required  for,        .        .     "   .        .      20 


INDEX.  l8l 

PAGE 

SNAKES  hatched  on  a  mantelpiece,  and  on  a  table, 7»  14 

Holes,  the  use  they  make  of, io»  27,  29 

Hybernating, 29 

Incubators, 33»  43 

Natural  history  of,  how  generally  acquired,     .        .        .        .      16,17,26,36 

Nests,  how  made  and  found, 8,  15,  18-21,  31,  33 

Oviparous, 7,  8,  12,  14,  34,  37,  38 

Progeny,  number  of, 8,11,18,19,29,31-34 

Scriptural  allusions  to, i?,  3r 

Skins,  shedding  of  their, 9,  22,  27,  41 

Swallowing  of  their  young,  7-9,11,13,15,16,18,19,  23,  24,  26,  27,  34,  35,  37,  ^39 

Apparent  mode  of,     .          .        .        .        .       9,  10,  16,  24,  26,  36,  38 

All  snakes  should  be  assumed  to  be  "  swallowers,"     .        .         29,  38 

Viviparous  (so-called),    .  •      .  *  -   . "      .  -      . .  •      .    »8,  12,  32,  34,  35,  37,  38 

Water, ./       •  •'.     V       ......       18 

How  their  nests  are  built, 19 

Young,  how  are  they  fed  ?        .•    •••'.•  -«. VM  \         .        .        .  10,16,25 

Seldom  seen  by  themselves,         v       .'       •        •        •        •  9»  J5 

When  seen  by  themselves,  .      •••.•     -y.      .....      27 

SOCRATES,  his  sacrifice  to  ^Esculapius, 5r 

Man's  ignorance  regarding  his  origin, 7°" 

On  the  existence  of  God, 79 

SOUTHEY,  ROBERT,  on  the  policy  of  the  Jesuits,     •';  •'  '•  »••''       ....    7248 
Styled  Bunyan  a  "blackguard,"      .         '.    ••':    I  '. '     ';«•        .        .         .158 

On  Bunyan's  education,  .         .         .        ,      -. 159 

SPANISH  GIPSIES, 123-127 

ST.  ANDREWS,  Mill's  legacy  to  the  students  of, 74 

ST.  PAUL  on  the  laws  of  nature  in  the  propagation  of  animals,        .        .        .17 
On  godly  sorrow  and  the  sorrow  of  the  world,        .-;      ,        .        .        .    n$o 

On  people  who  are  "  ever  learning," 51 

The  sacrifices  of  the  Gentiles,  and  the  religion  of  nature,  .  .  .51 
Taken  for  a  god  at  Lystra,  and  in  the  Island  of  Malta,  .  .  52 

On  the  delusion  sent  to  the  ungodly,  .-  .»  .:  .  .  .  53,  67 
His  horror  at  having  the  divine  honours  of  Pagans  offered  him,  .  .  54 
His  opposition  to  St.  Peter,  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  •  55 

On  the  religion  of  the  Athenians, 58,  79,  82 

On  speaking  in  an  unknown  tongue,  as  applicable  to  the  Pope's  infalli- 
bility,    67 

On  the  teaching  and  influence  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,    ....      67 

On  the  coming  of  Antichrist,  ........      68 

On  the  fear  of  death  and  future  punishment,  ......      78 

On  the  Epicurean  creed,          .......        <•        •      80 

ST.  PETER  scorned  to  accept  money  to  confer  a  Christian  grace,     ...      54 
He  commands  people  to  pray  to  GOD  for  forgiveness,  and  raises  Corne- 
lius from  the  ground, 54 

His  character  generally, 5£ 

STANLEY,  DEAN,  on  the  confessional  and  the  Eastern  Churches,  61 

Eulogizes  Bunyan  at  Bedford, ni6i 


1 82  INDEX. 

PAGE 

SUNSTROKE  illustrated, 43 

SURNAMES  among  the  Gipsies, 121, 130 

TOAD,  the,  eaten  by  snakes, 27 

TORTOISES  AND  TURTLES,  how  they  are  generated, 33 

The  tortoise  swallowed  alive  by  the  boa, 41 

WATERTON,  CHARLES,  greatly  in  error  in  regard  to  snakes,  .  .  .  39-42 
Surrounds  Walton  Hall  with  a  wall,  for  the  sake  of  natural  history,  .  42 
His  writings  full  of  errors  in  regard  to  natural  history,  ...  42,  46 

On  sunstroke,          .        .        .        .        , 43 

The  pythoness  hatching  her  eggs,  .        .        .. . '      ;     ,   .        .        .        .      43 

The  skunk, •        .        .     *  .      44 

On  wolves, ^        .        .44 

The  apes  on  Gibraltar, ;        .        .      45 

A  description  of  his  writings, 46,  48 

Avows  himself  to  be  a  Romanist,    . 47 

On  bird-stuffers, 47 

On  closet  naturalists, .        .        .         44, 47 

His  character  as  a  naturalist,         ; 42,  47,  48 

Some  peculiarities  in  his  private  character, 46,  47 

His  eulogium  on  the  Jesuits,  by  whom  he  was  educated,  47 

How  he  got  the  better  of  a  Jesuit  at  Stonyhurst, #48 

His  complaint  on  being  termed  an  unscientific  naturalist,  ...  48 
He  was  not  a  man  of  science  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  .  .  49 

WESTMINSTER  REVIEW,  THE,  on  the  Gipsies, m6o 

WHITE,  GILBERT,  of  Selborne,  on  the  propagation  and  feeding  of  snakes,     .       10 
His  testimony  regarding  vipers  swallowing  their  young,  and  viper-catch- 
ers,        II 

Describes  a  viper  pregnant  with  eggs,  and  another  with  young,     .        .       1 1 
'  His  theory  regarding  the  hatching  of  vipers'  eggs,          .         .  11,12,33 

Was  not  apparently  a  scientific  naturalist, n\2 

On  monographers, 17 

On  the  difficulties  attending  the  formation  of  a  natural  history,  .  .  17 
On  the  comparing  of  one  animal  to  another  by  memory,  .  .  .18 
As  a  man  of  candour,  and  open  to  conviction  in  regard  to  natural  history,  19 
On  the  genera  of  animals  peculiar  to  America,  .  .  .  .*  19 

On  the  variety  of  the  methods  of  Providence  in  natural  history,     .        .       20 

On  the  hatching  of  snakes' eggs, 20,21 

Was  no  bird-catcher  or  tamer, 20 

On  snakes  shedding  their  skins, 22 

Was  not  fond  of  analogous  reasoning  or  theories, 22 

WOLVES,  how  they  hunt  their  prey, 44,  45 

WORDSWORTH,  the  influence  of  his  poetry  on  Mill, 96 

ZINCALI  SOCIETY,  THE,  in  the  city  of  New  York, 141 


APPENDIX. 


7.  JOHN  BUNYAN  AND  THE  GIPSIES* 


A  WORK  by  myself,  entitled  Con- 
tributions to  Natural  History 
and  Papers  on  Other  Subjects,  now  in 
the  hands  of  Edinburgh  publishers, 
from  stereotype  plates  sent  from  this 
side,  was  set  up  before  I  saw  Notes 
and  Queries  of  the  nth  July  last, 
which  contains  an  article  from  Mr. 
Dudley  Gary  Elwes,  on  the  parent- 
age of  John  Bunyan.  In  that  arti- 
cle Mr.  Elwes  writes  : — 

"  As  I  was  (by  the  courtesy  of  the 
vicar  of  the  parish),  inspecting  the  reg- 
ter  of  Wootton  parish,  Co.  Bedfordshire, 
I  came  across  the  following  entries, 
which  evidently  allude  to  some  of  John 
Bunyan's  ancestors,  as  Wootton  is  not  so 
very  far  from  Elstow — about  five  miles — 
and  they  may,  perhaps,  eventually  lead 
to  the  discovery  of  who  were  his  par- 
ents ;  they  also  do  away  with  the  sup- 
position of  those  who  think  that  John 
Bunyan  may  have  had  Gipsy  blood  in 
his  veins." 

And  he  gives  a  list  of  seven  bap- 
tisms, four  marriages,  and  five  buri- 
als of  people  of  the  names  of  Bun- 
nion  and  Bunion,  between  the  years 
1581  and  1645. 

In  Notes  and  Queries  for  roth 
October,  1874,  D.  C.  E.  gives  a  list 
of  many  baptisms,  marriages,  and 
burials,  principally  under  the  name 
of  Bonyon,  from  Chalgrave  register, 
Co.  Beds.,  between  the  years  1559 
and  1629.  And  in  John  Camden 
Hotten's  Original  list  of  Emigrants, 
etc.,  to  the  American  Plantations, 

*This  article  on  " John  Bunyan  and 
the  Gipsies,"  was  sent  to  Notes  and  Que- 
ries, on  the  3d  March,  1875,  and  printed 
on  the  27th.  I  have  thought  it  advisable 
to  insert  it  here,  in  its  original  form. 


(1874),  we  find — "  John,  son  of  John 
and  Mary  Bunnyon,  bap.  16  Octo- 
ber, 1679,"  taken  from  the  register 
of  Christ  Church,  Barbadoes. 

In  the  Sunday  Magazine,  for  Jan- 
uary, 1875,  I  find  the  following: — 

"  The  Rev.  John  Brown,  of  Bunyan 
meeting,  has  gone  with  great  care  into 
many  of  the  old  registers  connected  with 
the  meeting  and  the  parish,  and  has 
contrived  to  throw  a  good  deal  of  light 
on  several  points  regarding  the  '  Great 
Dreamer.'  First  of  all,  he  finds  that 
the  idea  of  Bunyan  being  of  Gipsy  race, 
is  totally  discountenanced,  which  suppo- 
sition might  have  been  encouraged  by 
the  fact  of  Bunyan's  trade  being  that 
of  a  tinker  or  travelling  brazier,  in  which 
many  Gipsies  were  engaged.  He  has 
discovered  that  though  the  name  of 
Bunyan  has  now  died  out  from  Bedford- 
shire, it  is  of  great  antiquity,  and  was 
pretty  common  there  under  various  forms 
of  spelling.  It  was  borne  by  people  of 
good  position." 

And  the  writer  quotes  from  The 
Book  of  the  Bunyan  Festival,  as  fol- 
lows : — 

"  In  the  original  accounts  of  the  real 
and  personal  estates  of  delinquents 
seized  by  the  Parliament  of  England, 
between  the  years  1642  and  1648,  the 
rent  of  Sir  George  Bynnion,  delinquent, 
in  the  parish  of  Eaton-Socon,  Bedford- 
shire, is  returned  at  ^223,  us.  4d. 
From  the  same  account  it  appears  that 
the  land  of  Mr.  Foster,  delinquent,  in 
the  parish  of  Stretly,  was  let  by  the  year 
to  John  Bunnyon,  tenant,  at  a  rent  of 
^30.  It  is  perhaps  worthy  of  notice, 
that  the  farm  of  this  John  Bunnyon  was 
not  far  from  that  village  of  Samsell, 
where  our  John  Bunyan  was  appre- 
hended for  preaching.  Were  they  kins- 
men, and  had  the  tinker  been  on  a  visit 


1 84 


APPENDIX. 


to  his  more  prosperous  relative  when  he 
fell  into  trouble?  [!]  Quite  recently 
also  it  has  been  discovered  that  between 
October,  1581,  and  January,  1645,  the 
name  of  Bunnion  or  Bunion  occurs  no 
less  than  sixteen  times  in  the  register 
of  the  parish  church  at  Wootton,  a  vil- 
lage three  or  four  miles  from  Elstow. 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  these  dif- 
ferent modes  of  spelling  are  simply  vari- 
ations of  the  same  name,  and  their  long 
existence  in  the  county  effectually  dis- 
poses of  the  supposition  that  the  Bun- 
yans  were  Gipsies." 

From  the  above-mentioned  no- 
tices of  the  Gipsies,  as  well  as  others 
scattered  of  late  through  Notes  and 
Queries,  it  does  not  appear  that  the 
writers  have  made  any  real  inqui- 
ries in  regard  to  the  subject,  but 
merely  to  have  set  out  with  precon- 
ceived ideas,  popular  impressions, 
or  suppositions  and  theories,  and 
made  their  remarks  dovetail  into 
them.  Now,  what  is  wanted  is  a 
carefully  considered  investigation, 
starting  from  certain  facts  connected 
with  the  Gipsies,  as  they  exist,  such 
as: — 

"  i  st.  What  constitutes  a  Gipsy  in  a 
settled  or  unsettled  state  ?  2d.  What 
should  we  ask  a  Gipsy  to  do  to  '  cease 
to  be  a  Gipsy,'  and  become  more 
a  native  of  the  country  of  his  birth 
than  he  is  already  ?  3d.  In  what  rela- 
tion does  the  race  stand  to  others  around 
it,  with  reference  to  intermarriage  and 
the  destiny  of  the  mixed  progeny,  and 
that  of  the  tribe  generally  ? — An  inves- 
tigation of  this  kind  would  involve  a 
search  for  so  many  facts,  however  diffi- 
cult of  being  found  ;  and  should  be  con- 
ducted as ....  a  fact  is  proved  in  a  court 
of  justice  ;  difficulties,  suppositions  or 
theories,  or  analogies  not  being  allowed 
to  form  part  of  the  testimony." — Con- 
tributions, p.  134. 

Many  who  take  an  interest  in  this 
subject,  and  are  doubtless  desirous 
of  getting  to  the  bottom  of  it,  and 
learning  most  of  the  facts  of  it,  may 
not  have  the  time  or  opportunities 
to  investigate  it ;  or  they  may  not 
have  the  talents  suitable  for  the  busi- 
ness, or  may  find  it  difficult  to  get 
hold  of  the  thread  of  it,  so  as  to 


unravel  it  to  the  satisfaction  of  them- 
selves and  others.  Such  people  I 
would  refer  to  Simsorfs  History  of 
the  Gipsies,  edited  by  myself,  and 
published  by  Sampson  Low  &  Co., 
in  1865  ;  a  work  of  575  pp.,  con- 
taining a  minute  index  of  all  the 
information  to  be  found  in  it.  In 
the  ordinary  course  of  things,  what 
is  contained  in  this  work  would  be 
commented  on,  admitted  or  reject- 
ed, so  far  as  current  ideas  are  con- 
cerned, and  taken  as  the  basis  of 
future  investigations.  But  the  wri- 
ters alluded  to  have  apparently 
either  never  seen  or  heard  of  the 
book,  and  are  therefore  not  "  read 
up  "  on  the  subject  they  discuss  ;  or 
they  purposely  ignore  it,  and  so 
raise  the  question  whether  they  are 
merely  treating  the  subject  to  make 
a  paragraph,  or  maintain  a  theory. 
And  that  applies  more  particularly 
to  the  fact  of  Bynnion,  Bunnyon, 
Bonyon,  Bunnion  or  Bunion  being 
a  name  not  uncommon,  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  in  Bedfordshire. 
Hence  the  two  writers  specially  al- 
luded to  conclude  in  triumph,  and 
perhaps  with  a  flourish  of  trumpets, 
that  John  Bunyan  could  not  possi- 
bly have  been  a  Gipsy,  for  the  rea- 
son that  others  of  the  British  race 
were  of  the  same  name !  and,  as  a 
corollary,  that  no  one  bearing  a 
British  name  can,  under  any  circum- 
stances, be  a  Gipsy !  The  two  gen- 
tlemen mentioned  seem  to  know 
very  little,  if  anything,  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  should  have  exhausted 
every  source  of  information,  and 
looked  at  every  side  of  the  question, 
before  so  dogmatically  asserting  that 
they  "  do  away  with  the  supposition 
of  those  who  think  that  John  Bunyan 
may  have  had  Gipsy  blood  in  his 
veins  ;  "  that  "  the  idea  of  Bunyan 
being  of  Gipsy  race,  is  totally  dis- 
countenanced," and  that  the  long 
existence  of  the  name  in  the  county, 
"  effectually  disposes  of  the  suppo- 
sition that  the  Bunyans  were  Gip- 
sies." 

The  question  is,  When,  and  for 


JOHN  BUNYAN  AND  THE  GIPSIES. 


I85 


what  purpose,  and  under  what  cir- 
cumstances, did  the  Gipsies  assume 
the  Christian  and  surnames  of  Great 
Britain  and  Europe  generally  ?  The 
natural  answer  is  that  it  was  to  pro- 
tect themselves  against  the  severity 
of  the  laws  passed  against  them.  A 
tribal  tradition  (as  distinguished 
from  a  private  family  one)  on  a  sub- 
ject of  that  kind  would  be  easily 
and  accurately  handed  down  from 
so  recent  a  time  as  Henry  VIII. 
and  Elizabeth.  Now,  the  tradition 
among  all  the  British  Gipsies  is 
that  their  British  names  were  origi- 
nally assumed  from  those  of  people 
of  influence,  among  whom  the  tribe 
settled,  as  they  scattered  over  the 
country,  and  had  districts  assigned 
to  them,  under  chieftains,  with  a 
king  over  all,  and  tokens  or  passes 
to  keep  each  in  his  district,  or  from 
infringing  on  the  rights  of  other 
families.  All  that  is  fully  explained 
in  Simson's  History  of  the  Gipsies 
(pp.  116,  117,  205,  and  218),  where 
will  also  be  found  (p.  206)  the  fancy 
the  tribe  have  always  had  for  term- 
ing themselves  "  braziers,"  and  hav- 
ing the  word  put  on  their  tomb- 
stones. And  how  a  person  can,  in 
the  most  important  sense  of  the 
word,  be  a  Gipsy,  with  blue  eyes 
and  fair  hair,  as  well  as  black,  no 
matter  what  his  character  or  habits, 
calling  or  creed  may  be,  is  also 
very  elaborately  explained  in  the 
same  work.  And  that  anticipated 
Mr.  James  Wyatt,  who  said,  in 
Notes  and  Queries,  on  the  2d  Janu- 
ary last,  that  John  Bunyan  could 
not  have  been  a  Gipsy,  owing  to 
his  personal  appearance,  as  he  was 

"  Tall  of  stature,  strong-boned,  with 
sparkling  eyes,  wearing  his  hair  on  the 
upper  lip  after  the  old  British  fashion, 
his  hair  reddish,  but  in  his  latter  days 
sprinkled  with  grey ;  his  nose  well  cut, 
his  mouth  not  too  large,  his  forehead 
something  high,  and  his  habit  always 
plain  and  modest. " 

To  the  History  of  the  Gipsies,  and 
to  the  forthcoming  Contributions — 
in  both  of  which  Mr.  Borrow  is 


very  fully  reviewed — all  parties  in- 
quiring about  the  Gipsies  and  John 
Bunyan  are  referred. 

The  discovery  of  Bunyan  (with  a 
variety  in  the  spelling),  having  been 
the  name  of  native  families,  is  in- 
teresting, and  shows  how  superficial 
previous  inquiries  must  have  been. 
I  was  under  the  impression  that  the 
Bunyan  family  had  brought  it  into 
England  with  them  ;  but  admitting 
that  it  was  assumed  by  them,  it  still 
holds  good  that 

"  Very  likely  there  was  not  a  drop 
of  common  English  blood  in  Bunyan's 
veins.  John  Bunyan  belongs  to  the 
world  at  large,  and  England  is  only 
entitled  to  the  credit  of  the  formation 
of  his  character." — Contributions,  p, 
159. 

The  name  of  Bunyan  having  been 
borne  by  native  families  would  not, 
under  any  circumstances,  even 
make  it  probable  that  John  Bunyan 
was  not  a  Gipsy,  for  there  is  a  great 
variety  of  native  names  among  the 
race.  Had  he  belonged  to  the 
native  race,  he  could  have  said  that 
he  was,  in  all  probability,  of  a  "  fine 
old  Saxon  family  in  reduced  circum- 
stances, related  to  a  baronet  and 
many  respectable  families."  In 
place  of  that  he  said  : — 

"  For  my  descent,  it  was,  as  is  well 
known  to  many,  of  a  low  and  incon- 
siderable generation,  my  father's  house 
being  of  that  rank  that  is  meanest  and 
most  despised  of  all  the  families  of  the 
land." 

At  this  time  it  was  death  by  law 
for  being  a  Gipsy,  and  "  felony 
without  benefit  of  clergy"  for  as- 
sociating with  them,  and  odious  to 
the  rest  of  the  population.  Besides 
telling  us  that  his  descent  was 
"  well  known  to  many,"  he  add- 
ed : — 

"Another  thought  came  into  my 
mind,  and  that  was,  whether  we  [his, 
family  and  relations]  were  of  the  Israel- 
ites or  no  ;  for  finding  in  the  Scriptures 
that  they  were  once  the  peculiar  people 
of  God,  thought  I,  if  I  were  one  of  this 
race  [how  significant  is  the  expression  !] 


1 86 


APPENDIX. 


my  soul  must  needs  be  happy.  Now, 
again,  I  found  within  me  a  great  long- 
ing to  be  resolved  about  this  question, 
but  could  not  tell  how  I  should.  At 
last  I  asked  my  father  of  it,  who  told 
me;  No,  we  [his  father  included]  were 
not." 

Language  like  this  is  pregnant 
with  meaning  when  used  by  a  man 
who 

"  Was  simpjy  a  Gipsy  of  mixed 
blood,  who  must  have  spoken  the  Gipsy 
language  in  great  purity  ;  for  consider- 
ing tlje  extent  to  which  it  is  spoken  in 
England  to-day,  we  can  well  believe 
that  it  was  very  pure  two  centuries  ago, 
and  that  Bunyan  might  have  written 
works  even  in  that  language." — Contri- 
butions, p.  159. — "  It  would  be  interest- 
ing to  have  an  argument  in  favour  of 

the  common  native  hypothesis 

In  the  face  of  what  Bunyan  said  of  him- 
self, it  is  very  unreasonable  to  hold  that 
he  was  not  a  Gipsy,  but  a  common 
native,  when  the  assumption  is  all  the 
other  way.  Let  neither,  however,  be 
assumed,  but  let  an  argument  in  favour 
of  both  be  placed  alongside  of  the  other 
to  see  how  the  case  would  look." — Id., 
p.  1 60. 

In  the  forthcoming  Contributions 
an  effort  is  made  to  have  the  sub- 
ject of  the  Gipsies  placed  on  a 
right  foundation,  and  the  race,  in 
its  various  mixtures  of  blood  and 
positions  in  life,  openly  acknowl- 
edged by  the  world  ;  John  Bunyan 
taking  his  place  "  as  the  first  (that 
is  known  to  the  world)  of  eminent 
Gipsies,  the  prince  of  allegorists, 
and  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
of  men  and  Christians.  " 

The  remarks  I  have  made  about 
two  writers  in  particular  are  not 
altogether  inapplicable  to  Mr.  A. 
F£rgusson,  United  Service  Club, 
Edinburgh,  who  wrote  thus,  in 
Notes  and  Queries,  on  igih  Decem- 
ber, 1874,  on  "Gipsy  Christian 
names  and  tombs"  : — 

"  The  ideas  of  most  people,  however, 
on  the  subject,  derived  chiefly  from  sen- 
sational novels  and  the  mystified  tales 
of  George  Borrow,  are,  I  imagine,  still 
rather  hazy." 

However,  I  give  him,  as  follows, 


in  answer  to  his  inquiry,  copies  of 
inscriptions  on  two  Gipsy  tomb- 
stones, in  the  cemetery  of  Grove 
Church,  in  North  Bergen  township, 
on  the  edge  of  Union  Hill,  in  New 
Jersey,  opposite  to  New  York : — 

Neat  upright  marble  tablet,  with 
a  weeping  willow,  partly  covering  a 
monument,  carved  on  the  surface  : — 

IN 

MEMORY  OF 

NAOMI    DAVIS, 

WHO  DIED  MARCH  4,  1855, 

AGED  22  YEARS. 

Farewell   father,   mother,   husband    and 

son, 

Don't  weep  for  me  although  I  am  gone  ; 
Don't  weep  for  me,  nor  neither  cry, 
I  trust  to  meet  my  God  on  high. 
"  The  Lord  giveth,  and  the  Lord  taketh 

away, 
Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

On  a  smaller  upright  marble  mon- 
ument, within  the  enclosure,  formed 
by  a  chain  and  marble  supports,  a 
little  out  of  order,  there  is  the  follow- 
ing, to  the  memory  of  her  sister  : — 

VASHTI,  WIFE  OF  T.  WORTON,  DIED 
Nov.  26,  1851,  M.  26  YR. 

This  family  and  some  of  their 
connections  I  was  well  acquainted 
with.  I  found  them  of  various 
mixtures  of  blood;  some  with  the 
Gipsy  features  and  colour  strongly 
marked,  and  others  bearing  no  re- 
semblance to  the  tribe.  They  all 
spoke  the  language.  One  of  the 
sons-in-law  was  a  half-caste  Scotch 
Hindoo  from  Bombay.  They  did 
not  have  much  education,  but  were 
naturally  intelligent,  and  smart  and 
'cute.* 

In  addition  to  the  investigations 
made  in  church  registers,  I  would 
suggest  that  the  records  of  the  differ- 
ent criminal  courts  in  Bedfordshire, 
(if  they  still  exist)  should  be  exam- 
ined, to  find  if  people  of  the  name 
of  Bunyan  (and  how  designated) 
are  found  to  have  been  on  trial,  and 
for  what  offences. 

*  This  was  an  English  Gipsy  family. 


II.— MR.   FRANK  BUCKLAND    AND    WHITE    OF   SEL- 

BORNE* 


ON  looking  over  Mr.  Buckland's 
edition  of  White's  Natural 
History  of  Selborne,  I  find  some 
strange  remarks  made  by  him  on 
the  question  alluded  to  by  White, 
whether  vipers,  on  the  approach  of 
danger,  swallow  their  young.  White 
himself  was  the  very  embodiment 
of  dignity  and  simplicity,  candour 
and  courtesy,  and  was  open  to  con- 
viction on  every  question  relating 
to  natural  history,  let  the  informa- 
tion come  from  whatever  direction 
it  might.  Thus  he  said  : — 

"Monographers,  come  from  whence 
they  may,  have,  I  think,  fair  pretence  to 
challenge  some  regard  and  approbation 
from  the  lovers  of  natural  history." 
"  Men  that  undertake  only  one  district 
are  much  more  likely  to  advance  natural 
knowledge  than  those  that  grasp  at 
more  than  they  can  possibly  be  ac- 
quainted with."  "  Candour  forbids  me 
to  say  absolutely  that  any  fact  is  false 
because  I  have  never  been  witness  to 
such  a  fact." 

Mr.  Buckland,  when  discussing 
*  the  question,  should  have  presented 
in  a  condensed  form  the  pro  and  con 
of  it,  and  given  his  own  conclusion, 
so  that  the  reader  could  have 
formed  an  estimate  of  his  judgment 
and  of  the  subject  generally.  In 
place  of  that,  he  has  not,  even  in 
the  most  distant  manner,  alluded  to 
the  affirmative  side  of  the  question, 
nor  suggested  how  the  idea  could 
have  arisen,  or  how  it  happens  that 


*  This  and  the  following  article  were  of- 
fered, unsuccessfully,  to  some  English 
publications.  1  give  them  in  the  original 
form,  that  they  may  carry  more  weight,  or 
be  more  interesting,  than  if  they  had  been 
specially  got  up  for  the  use  they  are  now 
put  to,  although  they  will  present  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  repetition  of  some  of  the 
ideas  and  facts  given. 


so  many  intelligent  people  maintain 
it  as  a  fact  personally  known  to 
themselves.  The  course  adopted 
by  him  was  not  for  want  of  informa- 
tion, for  (not  to  speak  of  many 
others)  he  had  a  number  of  articles 
from  myself  in  Land  and  Water, 
and  others,  in  his  possession  for 
several  months,  which  did  not  ap- 
pear in  that  journal,  but  which  were 
again  laid  before  him  in  a  work 
published  last  year  under  the  title 
of  Contributions  to  Natural  History, 
and  Papers  on  other  Subjects.  In 
that  work  I  said,  in  regard  to  snakes 
swallowing  their  young,  that 

"  I  consider  the  testimony  so  com- 
plete that  nothing  could  be  added  to  it, 
although  it  would  be  very  interesting  to 
have  a  careful  examination  of  the  ana- 
tomy of  the  snake  to  ascertain  the  phy- 
sical peculiarities  connected  with  the 
phenomenon  described  "  (p.  3). 

"As  in  mathematics  we  require  to 
know  some  things  to  demonstrate 
others ;  so  in  snakes  swallowing  their 
young  it  is  not  necessary  for  a  man  ot 
science  or  common  sense,  if  he  will  but 
exercise  it,  to  see  it  done  in  order  to 
believe  it ;  but  when  ocular  testimony  is 
added,  it  sets  the  question  at  rest  be- 
yond all  doubt.  The  next  thing  to  be 
considered  is  the  anatomy  of  the  snake 
immediately  after  the  birth  of  her 
progeny  ;  but  that  could  not  be  so  easily 
ascertained  as  that  she  swallows  them  " 
(P-  38). 

"  I  am  not  aware  of  the  throat  of  a 
snake  having  been  examined  to  see 
whether  it  could  allow  an  instant  pas- 
sage for  her  young.  ...  If  a  throat 
were  examined,  it  should  be  that  of  a 
snake  that  was  alleged  or  supposed  to 
have  swallowed  her  progeny "  (p.  26). 
"  It  will  be  difficult  to  find  this  passage 
unless  when  it  is  in  use,  for  it  will  be- 
come so  contracted  at  other  times  as  to 
escape  any  observation  that  is  not  very 
minutely  made  "  (p.  36). 

That  evidence  I  have  not  seen 
(187) 


1 88 


APPENDIX. 


impeached  by  any  one.  Part  of  it 
consisted  of  a  paper  read  by  Pro- 
fessor G.  Brown  Goode,  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Middletown,  Connecticut, 
before  the  Science  Convention  at 
Portland,  in  the  State  of  Maine,  in 
1873,  which  furnished  evidence  from 
nearly  a  hundred  people  from  many 
parts  of  the  United  States;  several 
gentlemen  present  testifying  of  their 
own  knowledge  to  the  fact  of  snakes 
swallowing  their  young,  particularly 
Professor  Sydney  J.  Smith,  of  the 
Sheffield  Scientific  School,  Yale 
College,  who  "added  to  the  testi- 
mony of  the  paper  his  personal  evi- 
dence, that  he  had  seen  '  with  his 
own  eyes '  young  snakes  entering 
and  issuing  from  the  mouth  of  an 
older  one." 

Mr.  Buckland  brings  forward  no 
evidence  whatever  in  support  of 
himself  and  his  friends  as  "anti- 
swallowers."  What  he  says  amounts 
virtually  to  this,  that  what  he  and 
they  do  not  know,  or  do  not  under- 
stand, has  no  existence  in  fact! 
The  twelve  verses  of  the  song,  to 
the  tune  of  Lord  Lovel,  composed 
by  Mr.  Henry  Lee,  in  connection 
with  himself  and  Mr.  Higford  Burr, 
in  attempted  derision  of  "  swallow- 
ers,"  has  no  bearing  on  the  ques- 
tion at  issue.  He,  indeed,  advances 
Mr.  Davy,  the  bird-catcher  and 
dealer,  who  and  whose  employes 
never  saw  a  viper  swallow  her 
young,  and  therefore  pronounce  the 
idea  a  "  story  of  Old  Mother  Hub- 
bard  !  "  He  also  quotes  Mr.  Hol- 
land, the  keeper  of  the  snakes  at 
the  Zoological  Gardens,  who  never 
saw  it  done  in  his  collection  of 
snakes;  from  which  Mr.  Buckland 
infers  that  the  idea  is  a  romance.  I 
attach  no  weight  to  what  Mr.  Davy 
says ;  but  Mr.  Holland  is  entitled 
to  a  particular  notice.  I  would  ask 
him  if  he  knows  for  certainty  how 
vipers  are  born.  If  he  finds  that 
the  mother  passes  the  young  in  the 
shape  of  an  egg  or  ball,  about  the 
size  of  a  blackbird's  egg,  when  they 
immediately  disengage  themselves 


from  the  covering  after  it  has 
touched  the  ground,  how  can  he 
find  a  viper  full  of  young,  upwards 
of  seven  inches  long,  arid  so  active 
as  to  instantly  fight  or  run,  unless 
they  afterwards  entered  her  by  the 
mouth  ?  Like  Mr.  Davy,  the  bird- 
man,  he  will  doubtless  scratch  his 
head  and  cry,  "  Old  Mother  Hub- 
bard  !  "  Most  likely  both  gentle- 
men's knowledge  is  limited  to  their 
own  observations,  and,  like  such 
people  generally,  they  are  poor 
judges  of  what  has  been  observed 
by  others  under  different  circum- 
stances. Thus  Mr.  Holland  con- 
cludes that  vipers  do  not,  and  there- 
fore cannot,  swallow  their  young 
while  in  a  state  of  nature,  because 
they  do  not  do  it  while  in  captivity 
— a  most  illogical  conclusion.  His 
vipers  have  either  been  born  in 
captivity,  or  become  reconciled  to 
it  through  time,  so  that  their  house, 
cage,  or  den  is  the  only  place  of 
safety  they  know  of.  And  for  what 
purpose  would  a  viper  swallow  her 
young  under  these  circumstances? 
It  could  not  be  to  carry  them  any- 
where, or  shield  them  from  the 
weather,  or  protect  them  against 
danger  that  was  avoidable ;  the  last 
being  the  reason  always  given  by 
people  who  have  seen  the  phenome- 
non. This  I  explained  in  Land 
and  Water,  when  I  also  met  the 
objection  of  the  viper-catchers. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  be  told 
by  Mr.  Buckland  how  viviparous 
snakes  are  actually  born.  He  cuts 
open  a  viper,  and  finds  inside  a 
string  or  necklace  of  eggs  about  an 
inch  in  length.  Further  on  in  the 
season  he  cuts  open  another  viper, 
and  finds  the  same  number  (as  it 
may  be)  of  young,  upwards  of  seven 
inches  long,  complete  and  active 
snakes,  lying  all  sorts  of  ways,  with 
no  remains  of  the  eggs.  He  says 
that  these  have  not  yet  been  born ; 
whereas,  in  fact,  they  had  previously 
been  born  in  the  way  described, 
and  had  returned  to  the  same  cham- 
ber by  the  mouth.  An  assumption 


MR.  FRANK  BUCKLAND  AND  WHITE  OF  SELBOXNE. 


I89 


or  supposition  of  Mr.  Buckland  on 
a  point  like  this  amounts  to  nothing. 
It  would  also  be  interesting  if  he 
would  tell  us  what  animals  are  not 
covered,  or  partly  covered,  with 
something,  however  slight,  when 
they  come  into  the  world.  If  he 
finds,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that  vipers 
are  born  singly,  in  the  open  air,  with 
a  covering  on  them,  how  can  he  pos- 
sibly resist  the  conclusion  that  those 
found  inside  of  a  mother,  as  de- 
scribed, had  entered  her  by  the 
mouth?  That  there  may  be  no 
question  on  this  point,  we  find  in 
America  that  oviparous  snakes  are 
found  with  young  inside  of  them 
which  were  hatched  in  the  soil ;  the 
young  having  been  seen  to  run  in 
and  run  out  by  people  whose  evi- 
dence it  would  be  out  of  the  ques- 
tion to  dispute. 

Mr.  Buckland's  ideas  on  this  sub- 
ject are  very  hazy  and  vague.  Thus  a 
writer  in  Land  and  Water,  on  the 
27th  of  September,  1873,  said  that  a 
gentleman  killed  a  viper,  and  "  ob- 
serving it  to  be  of  unusual  thickness 
about  the  middle,  he  put  his  foot 
upon  the  place,  thinking  that  the 
reptile  had  recently  swallowed  a 
mouse.  The  pressure  brought  out 
ten  young  vipers  from  the  mouth  of 
the  old  one.  Some  of  them  were 
about  five  inches  long,  and  some 
shorter ;  but  all  were  alive  and  act- 
ive, as  if  they  had  previously  seen 
the  light  of  day,  and  had  again 
sought  shelter  in  the  parent."  Mr. 
Buckland  admitted  all  .this,  but 
maintained  that  the  young  had  not 
been  born,  but  were  squeezed  out  of 
the  mouth! — a  rather  strange  phe- 
nomenon for  the  young  inside  of  an 
egg  or  covering  to  be  forced  out  of 
the  mouth,  in  the  direction  of  which, 
according  to  Mr.  Buckland's  theory, 
there  is  no  passage.  One  would 
naturally  think  that  the  pressure  of 
the  foot  would  have  converted  the 
contents  of  the  mother  into  a  jelly, 
or  forced  them  out  towards  the  tail, 
rather  than  produced  a  "  stream  of 
viperlings  "  from  her  mouth,  "  alive 


and  active,"  as  described.*  On  the 
i4th  of  August,  1875,  he  was  in- 
formed of  an  officer  of  the  77th  Reg- 
iment killing  a  viper  with  "  young 
ones  alive  inside."  To  that  Mr. 
Buckland  replied  : — 

"  To  say  that  a  viper  has  swallowed 
its  young  because  they  are  found  inside 
it,  is  as  logical  as  to  state  that  because 
a  lot  of  kittens  are  found  alive  in  a  moth- 
er cat,  therefore  the  cat  had  swallowed 
them." 

From  this  one  would  conclude, 
that  snakes  do  not  swallow  their 
young  because  cats  do  not  do  it ! 
"  There  is  nothing  extraordinary  in 
finding  live  baby  vipers  inside  the 
mother;  but  they  were  not,  and 
never  had  been,  inside  the  stomach 
proper."  As  if  any  one  had  ever  as- 
serted that,  or  imagined  that  Nature 
was  such  a  botch  as  to  permit  the 
young  to  get  mixed  up  with  the  en- 
trails or  vital  organs !  "  They  were  by 
the  side  of  the  stomach,  each  wrapt 
up  in  a  thin  delicate  membrane  " 
(the  remains  of  the  original  egg),  as 
indeed  they  were  before  they  were 
born ;  but  these  were  divested  of 
the  membrane,  and,  as  it  were,"  run- 
ning about  "  inside,  as  can  be  found 
in  a  viper  any  summer  in  England. 

Another  strange  thing  to  be  no- 
ticed in  Mr.  Buckland's  notes  on 
White>  besides  not  admitting  a 
single  word  in  opposition  to  his 
theory  as  distinguished  from  the 
fact  of  snakes  swallowing  their 
young,  is,  that  he  does  not  admit  of 
White's  own  evidence,  which  was 
complete,  excepting  that  he  did  not 
tell  us  (because  he  says  he  did  not 
know)  how  vipers  are  born.  White 
wrote  thus  of  vipers : — 

"  Though  they  are  oviparous,  yet  they 
are  viviparous  also,  hatching  their 
young  within  their  bellies,  and  then 
bringing  them  forth." 

In  supporting  this  assertion,  it 
would  have  been  interesting  had  he 

*  For  the  particulars  of  this  phenom- 
enon see  note  at  page  39. 


igo 


APPENDIX. 


given  us  his  authority.  Like  others, 
before  and  since,  he  evidently  con- 
cluded that,  as  some  vipers  are 
killed  pregnant  with  eggs  and  others 
with  young,  the  latter  must  have 
been,  and  therefore  were,  hatched 
inside.  His  real  knowledge  was 
illustrated  when  he  said  that  "  the 
reptiles,  few  as  they  are,  I  am  not 
acquainted  with  so  well  as  I  could 
wish  with  regard  to  their  natural 
history.  There  is  a  degree  of  du- 
biousness and  obscurity  attending 
the  propagation  of  this  class  of  ani- 
mals." Then  he  says  : — 

"Several  intelligent  folks  assure  me 
that  they  have  seen  the  viper  open  her 
mouth  and  admit  her  helpless  young 
down  her  throat  on  sudden  surprises  ;  " 

whereas  Mr.  Buckland  writes  thus: — 

"It  is  still  believed  by  many  that  a 
female  viper  will  swallow  her  young 
when  they  are  in  peril.  In  nearly  all 
the  cases  [he  does  not  explain  the  ex- 
ceptions] that  have  come  under  my  ex- 
amination, the  event  always  happened 
a  long  time  ago.  The  witness  gener- 
ally begins  his  statement  thus  : — '  When 
I  was  a  little  boy,'  '  Many  years  ago,' 
'  My  grandmother  told  me,'  etc.,  etc. 
If  vipers  swallowed  their  young  '  many 
years  ago,'  why  should  they  not  do  so 
in  our  time  ?" 

And  he  adds  with  a  pooh,  pooh  air, 
as  if  he  had  noticed  a  crow  flying 
past  a  window  : — 

"A  correspondence  on  this  subject 
takes  place  in  Land  and  Water  almost 
every  year," 

while  all  the  evidence  furnished,  in- 
cluding my  own  and  that  of  the 
American  Science  Convention,  as 
already  explained,  and  the  evidence 
to  be  drawn  from  other  sources,  has 
been  passed  by  as  if  it  had  no  value, 
or  even  existence.  Presuming  on 
something  or  other,  whatever  it  may 
be,  he  thus  carries  things  with  a 
very  high  hand,  riding  rough-shod 
over  every  kind  of  evidence — quite 
unlike  a  man  of  superior  character, 
intellect,  and  acquirements. 


In  his  defence  he  says : — 

"  I  have  made  many  anatomical  pre- 
parations to  show  that  the  young  vipers 
found  inside  the  mother  have  never 
been  born." 

It  would  certainly  be  interesting  to 
have  these  examinations  minutely 
described,  but  divested  of  technical 
phrases,  so  as  to  make  them  per- 
fectly intelligible  to  the  ordinary 
reader,  and  in  which  nothing  is  as- 
sumed, but  everything  proved,  or 
logically  and  elaborately  argued,  if 
it  cannot  admit  of  proof.*  He 
further  says : — 

"  I  still  continue  my  public  offer  of  a 
reward  of  £i  for  a  specimen  of  a  viper 
which  has  been  seen  to  swallow  its 
young,  the  young  being  actitally  in  the 
cesophagus,  or  in  the  stomach  proper, 
when  it  is  opened  by  me  in  the  presence 
of  witnesses." 

The  words  underlined  by  him  will 
prevent  him  being  ever  called  upon 
to  pay  the  pound,  for  young  snakes 
do  not  enter  that  part  of  the  mother, 
but  take  refuge  in  the  chamber  that 
contained  the  eggs,  and  that  lies  by 
the  side  or  in  front  of  the  stomach, 
and  extends  below  it,  if  my  memory 
serves  me  correctly.  There  might 
be  danger  in  taking  the  pound  in 
the  event  of  Mr.  Buckland  buy- 
ing a  "pig  in  a  bag,"  and  lay- 
ing his  "  subject  "  aside  to  suit 
his  convenience  in  having  it  dis- 
sected in  the  presence  of  his  wit- 
nesses, who  must  be  called  together ; 
for  he  could  have  the  countryman 
arrested  for  obtaining  money  on 
false  pretences,  on  the  plea  that  the 
young  had  not  been  swallowed  ;  for, 
had  they  been  swallowed,  they 
would  have  been  in  the  stomach, 
and  not  in  the  chamber!  And  he 


*  It  was  evidently  in  reply  to  this  re- 
quest that  Mr.  Buckland  gave,  in  Land 
and  Water,  a  wood  cut  illustration  of  "a 
viper  supposed  to  have  swallowed  its 
young,"  as  alluded  to  in  the  following 
article. 


MR.  FRANK  BUCKLAND  AND   WHITE  OF  SELBORNE. 


might  even  get  Messrs.  Lee  and 
Burr,  and  others  of  that  "  way,"  to 
back  him  and  prove  his  case  before 
many  a  "justice,"  unless  the  un- 
fortunate man  stumbled  over  some 
"  vagabond  attorney  "  who  was  "  up 
to  snakes,"  and  stretched  them  all 
on  the  rack  of  the  cross-question, 
and  completely  floored  or  dished  the 
prosecution,  and  immediately  began 
an  action  for  false  imprisonment 
and  slander.  If  the  applicant  for 
the  pound  waited  to  see  the  result 
of  the  examination  before  getting 
his  money,  he  might  be  turned  out 
like  a  dog  for  having  insulted  the 
savants,  notwithstanding  his  most 
solemn  asseverations  that  he  actually 
saw  the  viper  swallow  her  brood,  in 
whatever  part  of  her  they  might  be 
found. 

This  "offer"  of  Mr.  Buckland, 
however  meaningless  it  is  in  its 
nature  and  indelicate  in  its  appeal 
to  naturalists,  has  been  well  circu- 
lated for  years  back,  and  will  be  so 
for  the  future,  unless  the  press 
should  say,  "  Stop  that  advertise- 
ment," till  he  does  the  following : — 
ist,  That  he  should  give  his  ex- 
aminations of  vipers  which  he  says 
showed  that  the  young  had  never 
been  born ;  zd,  that  he  should  tell 
the  world  how  vipers,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  are  born  ;  and,  3^,  that  if  he 
finds  they  are  born  "  singly,  in  the 
open  air,  with  a  covering  on  them, 
how  can  he  possibly  resist  the  con- 
clusion that  those  found  inside  of  a 
mother,  as  described,  had  entered 
her  by  the  mouth?"  This  Mr. 
Buckland  can  easily  do,  since  it 
rests  with  himself;  whereas  his  offer 
is  addressed  to  every  one,  and  what 
is  everybody's  business  is  nobody's 
business.* 

*  Thus  far  of  this  article  I  offered  to  a 
London  natural  history  publication,  with 
the  request  that  it  might  be  returned  if 
not  accepted  ;  and  it  came  back,  with 
every  courtesy  on  the  part  of  the  editor. 
The  remainder  of  the  article  was  sent  (o 
another  London  journal  that  should 
certainly  have  printed  it,  but  took  no 
notice  of  it,  as  I  shall  mention  at  p.  198, 


In  White's  Natural  History  of 
Selborne,  published  by  Bickers  & 
Son  (1875),  we  have  the  original 
text,  and  the  original  notes  marked 
G.  W.,  so  that  the  work,  as  it  came 
from  the  hands  of  the  author,  stands 
out  clearly  from  remarks  made  by 
others.  Judged  by  this  standard, 
Mr.  Buckland's  edition  is  an  amaz- 
ing production,  which  it  would 
be  difficult  to  characterize  in  be- 
coming language.  He  disposes  of 
White's  notes  as  follows: — 13  (some 
of  them  considerably  mangled)  are 
embodied  in  the  text;  24  (not  al- 
ways copied  correctly)  are  used  as 
notes,  with  nothing  to  distinguish 
them  from  his  own  (of  which  he  has 
about  30);  and  24  are  entirely  sup- 
pressed. The  language  of  the  text 
is  changed  to  incorporate  the  notes 
with  it ;  and  other  liberties  have 
been  taken,  but  to  what  extent  can 
only  be  ascertained  by  collating  the 
two  publications,  which  would  be 
the  more  troublesome,  owing  to  the 
letters  being  arranged  differently 
from  those  in  the  original  edition. 
The  changes  that  may  have  been 
made  are  not  likely  to  improve  the 
language,  if  we  judge  from  Mr. 
Buckland's  Preface.  White's  Ob- 
servations  on  Nature  have  been 
omitted,  and  in  their  place  about  a 
third  of  them,  without  any  explana- 
tion given,  have  been  inserted  in 
brackets  in  the  body  of  some  of  the 
letters,  and  in  the  most  clumsy  way ; 
the  word  Observations  being  placed 
outside  of  the  brackets,  and  some- 
times omitted.  Quotation  marks 
have  been  left  out  when  they  should 
appear ;  and  occasionally  Mr.  Buck- 
land's  own  remarks  printed,  with 
nothing  excepting  the  sense  to  dis- 
tinguish them  from  White's  text. 
In  this  way  he  breaks  in  upon  the 
genius  and  beauty  of  the  work — a 
charmingly  desultory  production,  in 
which  we  can  never  imagine  what 
even  the  next  paragraph  is  likely  to 
be ;  frequently  the  same  subjects  be- 
ing alluded  to  again  and  again,  ex- 
actly as  they  were  written  from  time 


192 


APPENDIX. 


to  time ;  while  the  interest  attach- 
ing to  the  Observations,  and  most  of 
the  Observations  themselves,  as  well 
as  the  Summary  of  the  Weather, 
have  been  entirely  done  away  with. 
Translations  of  Latin  quotations 
have  been  printed  as  part  of  the 
text,  and  various  Latin  documents 
excluded  from  the  Antiquities.  Per- 
haps Mr.  Buckland  is  the  only  man 
in  England  who  would  so  treat  such 
a  book — an  inheritance  which  every 
one  should  regard  with  reverence. 
He  has  shown  a  singular  peculiarity 
of  judgment  and  sense  of  responsi- 
bility in  so  "  editing  "  it. 

With  no  references  in  the  text, 
of  which  they  are,  or  are  supposed 
to  be,  illustrations,  he  adds  134 
pages  of  notes,  a  very  large  part  of 
which,  however  interesting  most  of 
them  are,  bear  no  relation  whatever 
to  White's  matter,  but  would  be 
suitable  for  a  collection  of  illustra- 
tions, odds  and  ends,  or  scraps  in 
natural  history;  and  it  wouJ4  not 
be  amiss  to  consign  large  parts  of 
most  of  the  remaining  notes  to  the 
same  repository ;  while  there  are  a 
great  many  nice  points  in  various 
branches  of  natural  history  that 
have  not  been  commented  on  at  all, 
and  45  pages  that  have  no  notes  of 
any  kind.  It  is  to  be  sincerely 
hoped  that  Mr.  Buckland's  book 
will  pass  at  its  true  value,  and  never 
be  allowed  to  corrupt  the  text  of 
the  amiable  White ;  for  it  is  only 
the  Natural  History  of  Selborne  al- 
tered, mixed  and  mutilated,  and  at 
the  best  only  a  part,  although  the 
most  part,  of  what  has  hitherto 


passed  under  that  name.  Mr.  Buck- 
land  says  that  "  White's  Selborne  has 
held  its  own  as  a  standard  book  for 
a  hundred  years,  and  will  probably 
be  as  fresh -as  ever  a  hundred  years 
hence ;"  but  it  must  be  as  White 
left  it,  with  additions  distinguished 
from  the  original  matter. 

White  was  a  man  that  doubtless 
brooded  over  the  books  he  read  on 
his  favourite  subjects.  In  regard  to 
that  Mr.  Buckland  says,  that 

"  I  have  discovered  that  White  had 
not  only  deeply  studied  Derham  and 
also  Ray,  but  [that]  in  many  cases  he 
illustrates  [illustrated]  Derham's  argu- 
ments by  his  own  observations." 

As  if  his  work  does  not  suffi- 
ciently "  discover  "  that ;  for  in  it 
we  find  Ray  mentioned  at  least  forty 
times,  and  Derham  frequently  al- 
luded to. 

Mr.  Buckland  also  says : — 

"  We  live  in  a  beautiful  and  happy 

world Rest  assured  that  if  we, 

like  White,  love  animals  (commonly 
called  dumb  because  we  cannot  under- 
stand their  language),  we  shall  never 
experience  the  feeling  of  solitude." 

That  is  running  natural  history 
into  the  ground.  The  world  wants 
a  "  philosophy  of  life  "  deeper  and 
more  complex  than  that ;  natural 
history,  in  any  of  its  branches,  con- 
tributing to  it  according  to  people's 
opportunities  and  tastes  running,  or 
being  cultivated,  in  that  direction. 


III.— MR.  FRANK  BUCKLAND  ON  THE  VIPER. 


IN  the  Dublin  University  Maga- 
zine for  July,  1875,  appeared  a 
notice  of  Contributions  to  Natural 
History  and  Papers  on  Other  Sub- 
jects, in  which  I  find  the  following: — 

"  The  principal  articles  in  this  volume 
that  have  reference  to  natural  history, 


originally  appeared  \nLandand  Water" 
"For  instance,  it  is  a  vexed  question 
whether,  under  any  circumstances,  the 
young  retreat  into  the  stomach  of  the 
mother  snake.  A  great  authority  [?], 
Mr.  Frank  Buckland,  affirms  that  they 
do  not ;  while  our  author  is  as  positive 


that  they  do. 


And  he  certainly,  with 

JJ 


MR.  FRANK  BUCK  LAND  ON  THE  VIPER. 


reason,  contends  that  the  question  is 
entirely  one  of  evidence ;  and,  therefore, 
should  be  settled  '  as  a  fact  is  proved  in 
a  court  of  justice;  difficulties,  suppo- 
sitions, or  theories  not  being  allowed  to 
form  part  of  the  testimony.'  "  "  In  sup- 
port of  his  own  views,  Mr.  Simson  has 
collected  a  large  body  of  evidence  that 
undoubtedly  appears  authentic  and  con- 
clusive." 

In  all  I  have  read  of  Mr.  Buck- 
land's  writings  on  this  subject,  I  have 
seen  no  evidence  in  support  of  his 
assertion  that  vipers  do  not  swallow 
their  young.  He  merely  maintains 
the  negative,  and  produces  others 
like  himself  who  do  not  know  of  it,  and 
therefore  do  not  believe  in  the  phe- 
nomenon, and  says  that  it  is  impos- 
sible ;  but  he  has  never  told  us  how 
he  knows  that  vipers  do  not  swallow 
their  young,  and  why  it  is  impossi- 
ble. 

The  question  must  occur  to  any 
one,  how  did  the  idea  that  vipers 
(as  well  as  other  snakes)  swallow 
their  young  originate?  A  subject 
of  that  kind  never  could  have  be- 
come a  superstition  among  country 
people.  It  has  been  simply  a  mat- 
ter of  observation.  As  such,  it  is 
not  to  be  settled  by  a  denial,  for  in 
that  case  one's  ignorance  would  be 
the  standard  by  which  it  would  be 
measured,  or  the  scales  in  which  it 
would  be  weighed. 

The  truth  is,  Mr.  Buckland  has 
committed  himself  so  frequently,  so 
fully,  and  so  publicly  on  this  subject, 
that  it  becomes  a  difficult  matter  to 
"  go  back  on  "  himself.  That  I  can 
easily  understand,  as  well  as  that  he 
should  say  nothing  about  the  mat- 
ter; but  I  cannot  so  easily  recon- 
cile it  with  the  "  law  of  literature  " 
that  he  should  continue  asserting  a 
negative,  and  ignoring  every  kind  of 
evidence  against  his  theory,  as  he 
did  lately  in  his  edition  of  White's 
Natural  History  of  Selborne,  after 
being  in  possession  of  Contributions 
both  before  and  after  publication, 
saying  nothing  of  the  evidence  to  be 
drawn  from  other  sources.  In  re- 


193 

gard  to  that  work  he  (or  Land  and 
Water  for  him)  says : — 

"  Contributions  to  Natural  History, 
etc.  The  fact  that  the  natural  history 
papers  in  this  volume  made  their  ap- 
pearance in  the  first  instance  in  these 
columns  is  an  effectual  bar  to  our  offer- 
ing any  opinion  on  their  merits 

Of  the  first  half  we  have  already  said 
we  can  offer  no  opinion." 

To  this  I  replied  that 

"  All  of  the  natural  history  papers 
were  sent  to  this  journal,  but  only  about 
half  of  them,  as  the  work  plainly  shows, 
were  published  in  it ;  and  these  did  not 
include  the  most  important  on  the  viper 
question.  They  were  all  intended  for 
Mr.  Buckland,  in  his  usual  manner,  to 
comment  on  them,  and  admit  or  reject 
the  evidence  contained  in  them." 

Mr.  Buckland  has  always  shirked 
the  evidence  to  prove  that  vipers  do 
swallow  their  young,  and  has  be- 
come "  a  bar  in  the  way  "  to  its  tak- 
ing its  place  as  a  fact  in  natural  his- 
tory. The  question  is  a  very  simple' 
one  that  is  of  easy  solution  if  we 
consider  it  according  to  evidence, 
direct  as  well  as  circumstantial ;  and 
it  is  strange  that  it  should  have  been 
allowed  to  remain  unsettled  for  a 
century,  since  White  of  Selborne 
brought  it  into  prominent  notice. 

Mr.  Buckland's  last  contribution 
to  the  discussion  presents  the  sub- 
ject in  an  aspect  that  makes  it,  I 
think,  of  considerable  popular  in- 
terest. 

In  Land  and  Water,  of  the  2d  of 
September,  1876,  he  gives  a  wood- 
cut illustration  of  "  a  viper  supposed 
to  have  swallowed  its  young."  His 
definition  is  correct  enough,  for  no 
one  but  himself  and  his  "  school " 
would  have  supposed  such  a  thing. 
The  fact  is  that  the  young  there  de- 
scribed had  never  been  born,  and 
consequently  could  neither  have  run 
into  nor  out  of  the  mother,  especi- 
ally as  he  says  that  each  was  "  wrap- 
ped up  in  a  very  fine  skin  or  mem- 
brane, tender  as  silver  paper,"  (the 


I94 


APPENDIX. 


remains  of  the  original  egg),  which 
shows  that  they  had  "  never  yet  been 
born,"  but  that  "  in  a  very  short  time 
the  young  vipers,  as  drawn,  would 
have  been  born." 

I  can  easily  believe  Mr.  Buckland 
when  he  says  that  he  has  lost  the 
friendship  of  a  gentleman,  who 
would  not  speak  to  him,  because  he 
asserted  that  vipers  do  not  swallow 
their  young ;  for  he  (Mr.  B.)  did 
so  (very  probably  in  the  most  offen- 
sive manner,  and)  in  palpable  igno- 
rance of  the  point  in  dispute ;  an 
ignorance  which  apparently  no  fact 
or  argument  will  remove  from  his 
mind,  or  get  him  to  acknowledge. 
He  admits  that  in  England,  Wales, 
and  Scotland,  one-half  of  the  people 
believe  that  "  a  viper  does  habitu- 
ally swallow  its  young,  while  the 
other  half  are  totally  incredulous." 
He  does  not  account  for  either  phe- 
nomenon, although  he  says  that 
"for  something  like  thirty  years  I 
have  been  endeavouring  to  settle  this 
point."  For  this  reason  the  subject 
should  be  taken  out  of  his  hands,  as 
a  person  incompetent  of  treating  it. 
He  gives  no  reason  for  half  of  the 
population  being  "  totally  incredu- 
lous "  on  this  subject,  but  leaves  us 
to  say  that  they  are  wilfully  so,  or 
because  they  have  never  had  it  fairly 
explained  to  them.  That  the  other 
half  are  aswallowers"  is  because, 
according  to  Mr.  Buckland's  long 
rigmarole,  they  are  under  the  influ- 
ence of  myths,  superstitions,  etc. — 
a  very  high  compliment  to  pass  up- 
on half  of  the  inhabitants  of  that 
Island  called  Great  Britain. 

As  regards  the  direct  evidence  to 
the  swallowing,  he  says : — 

"  I  can  recollect  but  one  man  only — 
a  game-keeper — who  could  affirm  that 
he  had  positively  seen  it," 

whereas  White  of  Selborne  wrote : — 

"Several  intelligent  folks  assure  me 
that  they  have  seen  the  viper  open  her 


mouth  and  admit  her  helpless  young 
down  her  throat  on  sudden  surprises."  * 

And  yet  Mr.  Buckland  adds  that 
in  his 

"  Humble  opinion  those  who  state 
they  have  seen  vipers  run  down  the 
mother's  throat  are  perfectly  honest  in 
their  belief,  but  yet  not  accurate  as  to 
facts.  The  story  is  generally  to  this 
effect : — They  have  seen  the  viper  bask- 
ing in  the  sun  with  the  young  ones 
around  her ;  on  being  alarmed  the  old 
viper  opens  her  mouth,  and  the  young 
ones  scuttle  away." 

One  would  think  that  that  would 
settle  the  question,  for  he  does  not 
say  how  these  people  could  be  mis- 
taken in  what  they  saw  with  their 
own  eyes,  and  not  those  of  others ; 
but  he  continues  : — 

"  The  viper  is  then  killed,  pressed 
with  the  foot,  or  opened  with  a  knife, 
and  the  young  are  found  inside  the 
stomach,  all  alive  oh  ! " 

Such  people,  most  likely,  used  the 
word  stomach  here,  not  distinguish- 
ing between  the  stomach  proper  and 
the  chamber  described  in  the  en- 
graving, in  which  the  young  take 
refuge.  Mr.  Buckland  does  not  say 
that  he  ever  dissected  such  a  viper, 
and  found  the  young  "  wrapped  up 
in  a  very  fine  skin  or  membrane, 
tender  as  silver  paper."  Had  he 
known  more  of  the  subject,  or 
been  willing  to  be  informed  of  it  by 
others,  he  would  have  referred  to 
White  of  Selborne,  who  personally 
cut  open  a  viper  containing,  not  un- 
born vipers,  coiled  up  in  an  egg  or 
covering,  about  the  size  of  a  black- 
bird's egg,  but  fifteen  exceedingly 
belligerent  reptiles,  the  shortest  of 
them  being  fully  seven  inches  long 
— a  phenomenon  that  can  be  ob- 
served any  summer  in  England. 
But  he  examined  another  viper 

*  White's  definition  of  the  phenome- 
non is  apparently  more  correct  than  the 
shorter  one,  "  swallowing,"  in  common 
use. 


MR.  FRANK  BVCKLAND  Off  THE  VIPER. 


'95 


pregnant  with  eggs,  near  the  point 
of  hatching  or  birth,  and  says  :— 

"In  the  engraving  will  be  found  a 
drawing  by  Mr.  Bergeau,  the  artist,  giv- 
ing a  representation  of  a  viper  that  has 
been  supposed  to  have  swallowed  its 
young." 

He  here  finds  young  that  had  not 
been  born,  and  gives  that  as  a  tri- 
umphant reason  that  vipers  do  not 
swallow  their  young !  He  might  have 
dissected  various  vipers,  showing 
eggs  ranging  from  the  condition  in 
which  the  foetus  could  not  be  dis- 
covered with  the  naked  eye,  to  the 
time  of  birth,  and  said  that  these 
dissections  prove  the  same  thing ! 

A  scientific,  or  even  common- 
sense,  naturalist  will  not  necessarily 
stoop  so  low  as  to  demand  ocular 
proof  of  snakes  swallowing  their 
young.  He  ascertains  that  vipers 
pass  their  young  with  a  covering  on 
them — the  original  egg  attenuated 
to  the  last  degree — which  breaks  as 
it  leaves  the  mother,  or  immediately 
after  it  touches  the  ground ;  and 
are  killed  with  young  inside  of 
them,  sometimes  upwards  of  seven 
inches  long,  and  divested  of  a  cov- 
ering ;  and  he  concludes  at  once 
that  the  young  were  swallowed. 
And  his  opinion  is  confirmed  by 
the  fact  of  oviparous  snakes  being 
killed  with  young  inside  of  them 
that  were  hatched  in  the  soil,  which 
proves  b.eyond  doubt  that  they  must 
have  been  swallowed.  Ocular  testi- 
mony confirms  the  opinion  in  both 
instances  that  the  young  were  swal- 
lowed. 

As  I  have  already  said,  about  half 
of  Contributions  to  Natural  History 
appeared  in  Land  and  Water,  and 
the  other  half  were  in  Mr.  Buck- 
land's  possession  for  several  months 
before  publication.  Among  these 
last  was  a  paper  read  by  Prof.  G. 
Brown  Goode,  before  the  American 
Science  Convention,  in  1873,  in 
which  was  found  the  positive  evi- 
dence of  nearly  a  hundred  people, 
from  various  parts  of  the  United 


States,  as  to  various  kinds  of  snakes 
swallowing  their  young;  several 
scientific  gentlemen  present  testify- 
ing of  their  own  knowledge  to  the 
fact,  particularly  Prof.  Sydney  J. 
Smith,  of  the  Sheffield  Scientific 
School,  Yale  College,  who  "  added  to 
the  testimony  of  the  paper  his  per- 
sonal evidence  that  he  had  seen, 
with  his  own  eyes,  young  snakes 
entering  and  issuing  from  the  mouth 
of  an  older  one."  He  was  also  in 
possession  of  an  appendix  to  the 
work,  bearing  the  title  of  Mr. 
Frank  Auckland  and  White  of  Sel- 
borne,  that  answered  by  anticipa- 
tion all  that  he  has  advanced  in  his 
article  under  review.  All  the  evi- 
dence contained  in  these  counted 
for  nothing  in  Mr.  Buckland's  esti- 
mation. He  says  that  "  for  some- 
thing like  thirty  years "  he  has 
been  labouring  to  ascertain  whether 
or  not  vipers  swallow  their  young ; 
so  that  we  have  his  own  evidence 
to  satisfy  us  that  during  all  that 
time  he  has  been  merely  trifling 
with  the  subject. 

In  his  edition  of  White's  Natural 
History  of  Selborne  Mr.  Buckland, 
as  we  have  seen,  says  that  <4  a  cor- 
respondence on  this  subject  takes 
place  in  Land  and  Water  almost 
every  year."  This  was  ^illustrated 
by  J.  A.  D.,  on  the  i6th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1876,  when  he  said  that  he  saw 
a  viper  swallow  her  young ;  and  on 
the  same  day  by  Wm.  G.  Gard, 
who  said  : — 

"  I  can  be  under  no  delusion  what- 
ever about  the  case.  I  saw  the  mother 
and  young  ones  ;  I  saw  the  young  ones 
enter  her  mouth ;  and  I  saw  them  re- 
leased from  her  stomach  by  its  being 
ripped  open  by  my  father,  and  I  saw 
them  killed." 

On  the  3oth  Francis  Edwards 
testified  to  the  phenomenon  having 
been  seen  by  Isaac  Mitchell,  a  farm 
labourer ;  and  on  the  6th  of  Janu- 
ary, 1877,  Mr.  Gard,  in  reply  to 
some  meaningless  cavilling  of  "Law- 
yer C."  about  the  fact  being  "  im- 


196 


probable,"  and  asking  how  the  little 
vipers  breathe,  and  how  the  diges- 
tion of  the  old  one  acts  (Mr.  Buck- 
land's  heresy),  said : — 

"  I  again  assert  that  I  saw  the  young 
ones  swallowed;  and  it  matters  not 
after  this  whether  the  releasing  of  them 
from  the  inside  of  the  mother  was  skil- 
fully or  otherwise  performed ;  nor  can 
any  amount  of  special  pleading  on  the 
part  of  '  Lawyer  C.'  in  any  way  affect 
that  fact." 

Facts  like  these  can  be  ascer- 
tained any  summer  in  England,  in 
opposition  to  Mr.  Buckland's  asser- 
tion that  they  are  "  grandmothers' 
stories,"  and  "  tales  of  Old  Mother 
Hubbard."  At  the  end  of  Mr. 
Card's  remarks  Mr.  Buckland  said 
that  "  the  discussion  must  now 
close."  It  should  certainly  close 
with  the  affirmative,  that  vipers  do 
swallow  their  young,  on  evidence 
direct  as  well  as  circumstantial,  and 
"  as  a  fact  is  proved  in  a  court  of 
justice  ;  difficulties,  suppositions,  or 
theories  not  being  allowed  to  form 
part  of  the  testimony." 

In  the  form  of  a  prefatory  note 
to  the  preceding  article,  entitled 
Mr.  Frank  Buckland  and  White  of 
Selborne,  printed  and  extensively 
circulated  in  Great  Britain,  as  an 
appendix  to  the  book,  was  the  fol- 
lowing : — 

"  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  this  subject 
will  be  well  ventilated  in  England, 
where  there  are  so  many  publications 
that  take  more  or  less  notice  of  natural 
history.  Mr.  Buckland  being  in  the 
way  should  prove  no  bar  to  that  being 
done  ;  for  it  is  a  question  with  many, 
What  is  his  real  standing  as  a  natu- 
ralist ? 

"  In  his  treatment  of  the  matter  in 
dispute,  he  has  ignored  every  circum- 
stance, argument,  and  fact  bearing  on 
the  affirmative  side  of  it,  and  has  had 
recourse  to  the  ignorance  of  others,  and 
a  song,  instead  of  hard  facts  and  solid 
reasons,  in  support  of  it.  Since  he  has 
committed  himself  so  fully  to  the  ques- 
tion at  issue,  judgment  must  be  given 


APPENDIX. 


against  him  by  default  in  the  event  of 
his  not  making  good,  or  not  explaining, 
the  challenge  he  has  had  before  the 
world  for  years  back. 

"  His  surroundings  in  England  make 
it  a  difficult  matter  to  '  bring  him  to  jus- 
tice '  on  this  question,  in  the  ordinary 
way.  Appropriate  parts  of  the  accom- 
panying article  were  offered  to  two 
journals  there,  bat  were  declined  -  for 
reasons  which  I  and  others  may  imagine, 
but  cannot  state." 

I  have  not  noticed  that  even  one 
paper  there  took  Mr.  Buckland  to 
task  for  "  altering,  mixing,  and 
mutilating"  the  text  of  White,  and 
inserting  all  kinds  of  frivolous 
matter  in  the  work,  such  as  the  song 
to  the  tune  of  Lord  Lovel,  phrases 
like  "  grandmothers'  stories  "  and 
"tales  of  Old  Mother  Hubbard," 
and  remarks  in  keeping  with  what 
he  lately  wrote  to  the  Times,  when, 
in  speaking  of  the  destruction  of 
oyster  spat,  he  said  : — 

"  I  think  then  what  an  awful  slaughter 
of  oyster-mothers  and  babies  has  been 
carried  on  during  the  last  two  or  three 
weeks  in  London  alone.  Why,  it  is 
worse  than  the  Turkish  atrocities  !  " 

This  tone,  indeed,  runs  through 
most  of  his  writings,  where  it  may 
remain,  but  it  is  sadly  out  of  place 
in  White's  Natural  History  of  Sel- 
borne. 

The  only  journal  which  really 
called  Mr.  Buckland  to  account  in 
any  way,  that  I  know  of,  is  the  Ex- 
aminer, long  afterwards,  that  is,  on 
the  2d  February,  1878,  when,  in  re- 
viewing Professor  Bell's  Edition  of 
White,  it  wrote  rather  gingerly  as 
follows : — 

"  Of  a  later  edition  [than  that  of  Ben- 
nett], by  another  hand,  [that  is,  Mr. 
Buckland],  we  need  say  nothing  ;  it  has 
already  succumbed  under  its  own  pre- 
sumptuous inefficiency." 

I  have  nothing  to  say  of  Mr. 
Buckland  personally,  but  I  claim 


MR.  FRANK  BUCK  LAND  ON  THE  VIPER. 


197 


the  privilege  of  speaking  of  him  in 
his  public  capacity,  since  he  is  "  a 
bar  in  the  way  " — the  cause  of  un- 
necessary trouble' — in  having  the 
question  of  the  viper  swallowing 
her  young  admitted  as  a  fact  in 
natural  history.  And  he  and  his 
friends  can  have  no  reason  of  com- 
plaint against  me  for  doing  so,  inas- 
much as  he  has  treated  the  subject 
capriciously,  and  not  with  that 
candour  and  courtesy  which  the 
"  sacred  deposit  of  truth  "  called  for. 
My  opinion,  then,  of  him  is  that 
he  is  a  wonderfully  overrated  man, 
but  in  high  esteem  in  England 
among  conventional  people  who, 
even  although  of  high  education 
and  intelligence,  are  not  qualified  to 
judge  him  in  questions  of  natural 
history,  or  who  have  never  heard 
his  merits  discussed,  or  who  will 
not  take  the  trouble  to  look  into 
them,  and  will  almost  resent  it  being 
done  by  others.  In  reality  he  is, 
for  the  most  part,  but  a  kind  of 
broker  in  natural  history  facts  and 
anecdotes — almost  every  one  send- 
ing him  all  kinds  of  articles  and 
odds  and  ends  connected  with  the 
subject,  of  which  he  becomes  the 
depositary  and  registrar,  to  be  re- 
ferred to  as  occasion  calls  for.  In 
this  capacity  he  would  be  a  useful 
and  interesting  member  of  socie- 
ty, if  he  accurately  arranged  and 
thoroughly  digested  his  informa- 
tion, and  dealt  it  out  correctly, 
giving  his  authorities,  after  their 
information  had  been  well  tested 
and  confirmed,  for  everything  with 
which  he  favoured  the  public,  so 
that  it  could  always  be  depended 
on.  And  then  his  labours  would  be 
too  multifarious  to  secure  accuracy 
on  all  occasions.  In  denying  that 
Charles  Waterton  was  a  scientific 
naturalist  I  said  that 

"  A  person  may  make  all  observations 
possible  on  a  complicated  subject,  and 
yet  be  devoid  of  the  capacity  or  mental 
training  to  weave  them  into  a  theory 
or  system,  that  will  immediately,  or  at 
any  time,  meet  with  acceptance  "  (p.  49). 


The  same  may  be  asserted,  in  a 
much  greater  degree,  of  the  relation 
in  which  Mr.  Buckland  stands  to 
natural  history  generally  (for  it  is 
almost  the  reverse  of  Waterton's), 
whatever  might  be  said  of  him  as  a 
taxidermist  and  anatomist  (the 
labours  of  his  own  hands),  or  in  any 
particular  department  of  natural 
history  that  he  may  have  practically 
studied  to  advantage.  Witness,  for 
example,  his  amazing  remarks,  given 
at  page  189,  about  a  "stream  of 
viperlings,  alive  and  active,  forced 
out  of  a  viper  by  the  pressure  of  the 
foot,"  being  "  in  the  egg  and  not 
yet  born,  but  squeezed  out  of  the 
mouth  "y  and  that  vipers  do  not 
swallow  their  young  because  cats  do 
not  do  it!  Could  a  "naturalist," 
with  the  overwhelming  amount  of 
evidence  before  him,  ever  have 
given  expression  to  two  such  opin- 
ions ? 

The  son  of,  and  "  the  successor 
in  natural  science  "  to,  the  Dean  of 
Westminster,  the  well-known  Bridge- 
water  writer,  lately  a  surgeon  in  the 
Life  Guards,  the  natural  history 
editor  of  Land  and  Water,  and  the 
leading  commissioner  of  the  fisher- 
ies— preceded  by  his  page  and  secre- 
tary— Mr.  Buckland  presents  an  im- 
posing aspect  to  all  kinds  of  "  poor 
people,"  who  would  rather  not 
offend  him,  or  the  society  in  which 
he  figures  so  prominently,  and  far 
less  call  in  question  his  authority  or 
almost  his  infallibility  in  natural 
history.  So  divided  and  subdivided 
is  the  press,  with  its  various  spheres 
so  clearly  defined,  that  journals 
whose  province  is  not  natural  his- 
tory will  not  interfere  with  him  in 
disputed  points,  but  will  rather  say, 
"We  leave  that  to  Mr.  Buckland." 
Even  papers  on  natural  history  seem 
to  have  a  delicacy  in  meddling  with 
him,  on  account  of  his  editorial  and 
official  standing,  and  his  peculiar 
relation  to  a  large  part  of  the  com- 
munity interested  in  the  popular 
aspects  of  the  subject ;  while  natu- 
ralists of  admitted  scientific  reputa- 


I98 


APPENDIX. 


tion,  in  their  respective  branches, 
not  regarding  him  as  a  reliable 
authority  on  the  many  questions  on 
which  he  is  so  ready  to  give  so 
absolute  a  decision,  evidently  will 
not  enter  the  sphere  of  which  he  is 
the  luminary.  Having  thus  sub- 
stantially a  clear  course  before  him, 
he  acts  as  if  he  considered  himself 
society's  darling,  that  can  do  pretty 
much  what  he  pleases  in  regard  to 
natural  history,  and  defy  any  moral 
magistrate — British  and  especially 
American — to  commit  him  or  bind 
him  over.  He  rather  went  over  the 
mark,  however,  in  marring  the 
sacred  text  of  White ;  after  which 
there  is  hardly  anything  for  him  to 
be  guilty  of  but  contempt  of  majesty 
and  sacrilege. 

The  phrase  "  presumptuous  in- 
efficiency "  applied  by  the  Examiner 
to  his  edition  of  White  is  a  bitter 
expression,  and  all  the  more  bitter 
because  the  editor  had  apparently 
to  decline  using  it  in  a  formal  im- 
peachment of  the  writer  by  name. 
That  purpose  would  have  been 
served  had  I  succeeded  in  getting 
part  of  the  preceding  article  at  page 
191,  from  "  In  White's  "  to  the  end 
of  it,  with  my  name  attached,  in- 
serted in  a  London  journal  which  I 
always  considered  one  of  independ- 
ence, and  the  special  medium  for 
pointing  out  the  unpardonable 
liberties  taken  with  White. 

"  Presumptuous  inefficiency  "  is 
absolute  truth  when  applied  to  Mr. 
Buckland's  treatment  of  the  viper 
question,  where  he  has  been  caught, 
as  it  were,  in  a  trap  from  which 
there  is  no  living  extrication;  so 
that  no  one  need  look  to  him,  even 
after  his  thirty  years'  labour,  to  have 
that  very  interesting  point  in  natural 
history  decided;  and  about  which 
there  need  be  no  controversy,  inter- 
national or  otherwise.  Besides  vipers 
swallowing  their  young,  I  repeat 
what  I  have  said  in  the  work: — 

"  I  lay  it  down  as  an  axiom  that  we 
must  hold  that  all  snakes  [when  living 


in  a  state  of  nature]  swallow  their  young, 
till  the  opposite  can  be  proved  of  any 
particular  species  of  them  "  (p.  29). 

On  paying  a  visit  this  year  (1878), 
about  the  yth  of  April,  to  Wee- 
hawken,  near  Hoboken,  in  New 
Jersey,  opposite  New  York,  where 
snakes  have  been  killed  by  the  rail- 
road trains  passing  over  them  while 
lying  along  or  on  the  rails,  for  the 
heat  of  the  sun  concentrated  in  the 
iron  (p.  29),  I  noticed,  here  and 
there,  dead  garter  snakes  of  all  sizes, 
lying  sometimes  three  together,  too 
fresh-looking  to  have  been  killed  last 
year ;  and  I  made  inquiries  of  a  man 
in  the  immediate  vicinity,  who  has 
mowed  the  marsh  there  for  many 
years.  He  said  that  they  made  their 
first  appearance  in  the  early  part  of 
March — so  early  and  mild  was  the 
season — and  in  great  force  about  the 
ist  of  April,  when  the  children  and 
more  grown-up  people  turned  out 
and  killed  many  of  them,  some  in 
the  open  air  and  others  on  turning 
over  the  stones  to  get  at  them.  This 
man,  intelligent  and  doubtless  in 
this  matter  reliable,  after  having 
had  many  opportunities  for  noticing 
snakes,  assured  me,  on  being  asked 
generally,  "what  he  knew  about 
snakes,"  that  he  had  seen  a  black 
and  a  garter  snake  (both  oviparous) 
swallow  their  young.  He  was  mi- 
nute in  his  description  in  the  latter 
instance.  He  said  that  he  saw  the 
snake  at  a  very  short  distance,  then 
distinctly  heard  a  peculiar  noise,  and 
saw  her  open  widely  her  mouth,  and 
the  young  snakes,  coming  quickly 
from  every  direction,  and  in  a  con- 
fused-looking scramble,  enter  it; 
making  a  scene  very  interesting  to 
witness.  He  then  put  his  foot  on 
her,  immediately  below  the  head, 
just  as  the  last  one  went  down  her 
throat,  and  seized  her  by  the  tail, 
and  ripped  her  open  with  his  knife, 
without  touching  the  stomach  pro- 
per, and  let  out  a  number  of  young 
ones,  which  were  several  weeks  old, 
so  far  as  he  could  judge.  He  said 
that  the  peculiar  noise  served  the 


THE  ENDO  WMENT  OF  RESEARCH. 


I99 


purpose  of  that  of  a  hen  when  she 
calls  her  chickens  around  her ;  but 
he  could  not  imitate  it,  or  even  de- 
scribe it  beyond  saying  that  the  old 
snake  spoke  to  her  progeny. 

This  but  illustrates  what  I  have 
said  at  page  17,  that 

"  More  could  be  collected  from  intelli- 


gent people  in  or  from  country  places, 
[in  America,  about  snakes]  than  one 
would  perhaps  care  to  be  troubled  with;" 
and  at  page  26,  in  regard  to  them  swal- 
lowing their  young,  that  "  the  popular 
belief  in  America  is  that  snakes,  with- 
out regard  to  species,  do  it,  while  there 
are  few  neighbourhoods  in  which  one,  if 
not  several  people,  cannot  be  easily  found 
who  can  testify  to  it  as  a  fact." 


IV.—  THE  ENDOWMENT  OF  RESEARCH. 


PROFESSOR  HUXLEY,  in  an 

address  at  the  opening  of  the 
Johns  Hopkins  University,   at 
Baltimore,  on  the   i2th  of  Septem- 
ber, 1876,  when  alluding  to  the  "  en- 
dowment of  research,"  said  : — 

"  It  is  given  to  few  to  add  to  the 
store  of  knowledge,  to  strike  new  springs 
of  thought,  or  shape  new  forms  of 
beauty." 

But  he  did  not  add  that  such,  al- 
most invariably,  are,  for  a  time  at 
least,  abused,  or  refused  the  slight- 
est courtesy,  when  something  has  to 
give  place  to  what  is  brought  for- 
ward. It  would  take  up  too  much 
room  to  give  the  philosophy  of  such 
a  phenomenon  at  length ;  suffice  it 
to  say  that  one  reason  for  it  is  the 
opposition,  or  the  objection  to  dis- 
cussion, on  the  part  of  those  who 
have  such  things  in  their  special 
keeping,  and  the  consequent  indif- 
ference, incredulity,  or  even  aver- 
sion of  those  who  look  to  them  for 
light  on  the  subjects  treated. 

One  of  these  questions  is  the 
preservation  of  the  Jews,  which  the 
Duke  of  Argyll,  in  his  Reign  of  Law, 
attributes  to  a  miracle  or  a  special 
providence.  On  the  face  of  it  one 
would  say  that  the  Duke  would  not 
do  any  of  the  following  things  : — 

ist,  Maintain  as  true  what  he 
does  not  believe  to  be  so;  ad,  ad- 
vance as  truth  what  he  does  not 
know  to  be  fact  or  fable ;  3d,  main- 
tain a  personal  or  popular  dogma  as 


a  truth  until  the  contrary  is  demon- 
strated ;  4th,  refuse  to  acknowledge 
that  any  position  taken  up  by  him 
is  unsound  on  its  being  proved  to 
be  so,  or  that  there  is  no  reasonable 
foundation  for  it ;  and  5th,  allow  his 
opinion  to  influence  others  on  any 
subject  he  may  have  maintained, 
after  it  has  been  proved  to  be  falla- 
cious. 

After  completely  refuting,  I  think, 
all  that  the  Duke  advanced  on  that 
subject,  I  said  : — 

"  The  fact  of  the  Jews  keeping  dis- 
tinct from  others  is  a  simple  question, 
that  is  easily  understood  when  investi- 
gated inductively  and  on  its  merits.  It 
is  neither  miraculous,  a  special  provi- 
dence, wonderful,  nor  remarkable  "  (p. 
163).  "  I  have  discussed  the  subject 
pretty  fully  in  the  work,  showing  that 
the  existence  of  the  Jews  since  the  dis- 
persion is  in  exact  harmony  with  every 
natural  law,  and  that  it  would  have 
been  a  miracle  had  they  ceased  to  be 
Jews,  and  become  anything  else  than 
what  they  are  to-day ;  and  that  there  is 
no  analogy  between  their  history  and 
that  of  any  European  nation  "  (p.  161). 
And  that  "  nothing  having  the  decent 
appearance  of  an  argument  can  be  ad- 
vanced in  support  of  such  a  theory  "  (p, 
164,)  as  is  generally  held  on  this  subject, 

In  my  Disquisition  on  the  Gipsies 
I  have  said  that 

"  Writers  on  the  Christian  Evidences 
should  content  themselves  with  main- 
taining that  the  Jews  have  fulfilled  the 
prophecies,  and  will  yet  fulfill  them,  and 


2OO 


APPENDIX. 


assert  nothing  further  of  them,"  (p. 
459). 

In  expatiating  on  the  difficulties 
attending  the  "  endowment  of  re- 
search," Professor  Huxley,  on  the 
occasion  mentioned,  while  discour- 
aging the  vulgar  expedient  of  offer- 
ing money  for  it,  said  nothing  of  ex- 
tending to  it  the  courtesy  of  discus- 
sion through  the  ordinary  channels, 
doubtless  for  the  reason  that  that 
aspect  of  the  question  was  not 
specially  before  the  meeting. 

Another  subject  requiring  to  be 
"  brought  into  more  prominent  no- 
tice than  ordinary,  when  the  publi- 
cations devoted  to  it  decline  or  de- 
lay doing  it,"  as  I  wrote  in  the 
Spectator^  on  the  26th  of  August, 
1876,  with  reference  to  Mr.  Frank 
Buckland  and  the  viper,  is  that  of 
the  Gipsies,  a  race  that  has  existed 
in  Great  Britain  for  upwards  of 
three  centuries  and  a  half,  and  about 
which  I  have  said  : — 

"  I  admit  that  the  subject  of  the  Gip- 
sies, so  far  as  it  is  understood,  and  as 
Blackwood  will  have,  or  will  allow,  it  to 
be  understood,  presents  little  interest  to 
the  world,  if  it  means  only  a  certain 
style  of  life  that  may  cease  at  any  mo- 
ment," (p.  153). 

The  real  interest,  in  the  higher 
sense  of  the  word,  attaching  to  this 
people  is  centred  in  the  relation  in 
which  it  "  stands  to  others  around  it, 
with  reference  to  intermarriage  and 
the  destiny  of  the  mixed  progeny, 
and  that  of  the  tribe  generally  "  (p. 
135),  especially  in  English-speaking 
countries. 

In  an  appeal  which  I  made  to  the 
Scottish  Clergy  on  this  subject,  I 
said : — 

"You  thus  see  that  the  subject  be- 
comes one  of  disinterested  and  serious 
inquiry,  in  which  there  should  be  shown 
none  of  that  apathy  and  contempt,  and 
unreflecting  incredulity,  that  is  general- 
ly manifested,  and  is  so  unworthy  of  the 
age  in  which  we  live,  and  especially  of 


men  of  education,  and  social  and  official 
standing  in  society,"  (p.  151). 

I  find  that  the  great  "  bar  in  the 
way  "  of  this  subject  being  investi- 
gated is  Mr.  George  Borrow,  for 
people  say  that  if  there  is  anything 
of  the  nature  mentioned  in  it,  he 
must  have  found  it  and  told  us  of  it, 
as  it  has  been  in  his  "  special  keep- 
ing "  for  many  years.  In  that  re- 
spect I  have  said  :  — 

"  What  becomes  of  the  Gipsies,  is  a 
question  that  cannot  be  settled  by 
reference  to  any  of  Mr.  Borrow's  writ- 
ings, although  these  contain  a  few  inci- 
dental remarks  that  throw  some  light 
on  it,  when  information  of  a  positive 
and  circumstantial  nature  is  added," 
(p.  120). 

In  his  Gipsies  in  Spain  he  wrote  :  — 

"  We  have  already  expressed  our  be- 
lief that  the  caste  has  diminished  of 
latter  years  ;  whether  this  diminution 
was  the  result  of  one  or  many  causes 
combined  —  of  a  partial  change  of  habits, 
of  pestilence  or  sickness,  of  war  or 
famine,  or  of  a  freer  intercourse  with 
the  Spanish  population  —  we  have  no 
means  of  determining,  and  shall  abstain 
from  offering  conjectures  on  the  sub- 
ject," (p.  126). 

And    in    his   Romano   Lavo-Lil   he 
said  :  — 

"There  is  every  reason  to  suppose 
that  within  a  few  years  the  English  Gip- 
sy caste  will  have  disappeared,  merged 
in  the  dregs  of  the  English  population," 
(P- 


This  last  remark,  as  he  admits,  is 
a  mere  supposition,  based  on  noth- 
ing of  the  nature  of  a  research,  and 
contradicted  by  every  fact  or  cir- 
cumstance bearing  on  the  subject 
mentioned  in  his  writings. 

Mr.  Borrow  has  never  been  re- 
garded as  an  accurate  investigator 
and  reasoner,  possessing  the  com- 
prehensiveness and  judicial  calm- 
ness of  a  philosopher,  or  as  showing 
solidity  of  judgment  in  any  question 
treated  by  him.  He  has  had  many 


THE  ENDOWMENT  OF  RESEARCH. 


201 


opportunities  for  examining  his 
favourite  subject,  in  the  aspects  of 
its  ethnological,  social,  and  historic- 
al development,  in  reply  to  what  I 
wrote  in  the  History  of  the  Gipsies, 
published  in  London,  in  1865,  and 
in  New  York,  in  1866,  and  in  Con- 
tributions under  consideration ;  and 
never  having  made  any  sign  in  con- 
nexion with  either,  he  cannot  com- 
plain if  he  is  now  counted  out  and 
shelved  without  ceremony.  And 
yet  I  find  one  of  his  recruits  writing 
of  him,  in  a  London  journal,  as  fol- 
lows : — 

"  We  can  stand  all  this  pretty  well, 
but  we  are  up  in  arms  when  George 
Borrow  ....  is  taken  to  task  in  a 
cold-blooded  manner  for  all  sorts  of  mis- 
leading statements,  and  is  proved  to  be 
altogether  an  incompetent  and  ignorant 
guide  on  the  subject.  This  is  too  much 
for  our  equanimity,  and  we  honestly 
confess  that  we  are  weak  enough  to 
prefer  George  Borrow's  stories  to  Mr. 
Simson's  arguments."  And  like  that  of 
a  raw  recruit,  his  parting  shot  is — "  In 
short,  the  world  is  full  of  blockheads ; 
but  there  is  one  wise  man  left,  and  his 
name  is  Simson." 

Indeed,  George  Borrow,  Frank 
Buckland,  and  Charles  Waterton 
may  be  described,  without  offence, 
as  three  impulsive,  headstrong,  ex- 
cathedra-talking  dogmatists,  inca- 
pable, when  left  to  themselves,  of 
constructing  an  argument  of  a  com- 
plex nature,  or  of  giving  a  satisfac- 
tory exposition  of  an  intricate  sub- 
ject that  could  stand  scrutiny.  To 
train  a  thirteen-inch  bomb  on  them, 
in  that  respect,  would  be  superfluous, 
for  a  thimbleful  of  "  sparrow-hail  " 
would  suffice.  The  judicious  use 
of  that  "  little  crooked  thing  which 
asks  questions,"  called  an  interrog- 
atory, would  dispose  of  much  that 
has  been  advanced  by  all  of  them. 

Of  the  Gipsy  tribe,  mixed  as  it  is 
in  regard  to  blood,  and  large  in 
point  of  numbers,  that  is  to  be  found 
pretty  much  everywhere,  in  many 
positions  of  life,  from  a  tinker  up- 
wards, with  the  character  and  fre- 


quently the  appearance  of  ordinary 
natives  of  the  soil,  I  have  said 
that  its  perpetuity  is  based  on  the 

"Simple  ground  that  they  are  the 
children  or  descendants  of  ordinary 
Gipsies,  having  their  blood,  an  inherent 
sense  of  being  members  of  the  tribe, 
and  some  of  the  language  and  signs 
peculiar  to  themselves,  like  a  Masonic 
society,  although  the  possession  of  these 
words  and  signs  is  not  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  constitute  them  Gipsies  ;  for  the 
mere  consciousness  of  the  fafft  of  being 
Gipsies,  transmitted  from  generation  to 
generation,  and  made  the  basis  of  mar- 
riages and  the  intimate  associations  of 
life,  is  in  itself  perfectly  sufficient,'1  (p. 
152). 

That  this  people  should  be  openly 
acknowledged  by  the  rest  of  the 
population,  and  "  treated  on  their 
individual  merits  as  ordinarily  re- 
cognized by  society,"  and  allowed 
to  "form  themselves  into  societies 
for  such  purposes  as  the  world  re- 
cognizes," may  well  be  considered 
the  subject  of  a  "research" — con- 
ducted by  the  labour  and  at  the  ex- 
pense of  him  making  it — that  stands 
in  no  need  of  an  "  endowment,"  but 
merits  the  attention  of  a  variety  of 
classes  too  numerous  to  mention, 
provided  that  it  is  carefully  studied, 
and  has  a  corresponding  interest 
created  for  it. 

The  pride  which  the  Gipsies  have 
in  their  peculiar  sept,  their  exclusive 
and  secretive  characteristics,  which 
are  inherent  in  them,  and  their 
natural  resentment  of  the  prejudice 
existing  against  the  name  and  race, 
have  made  an  amalgamation  with 
the  natives  almost  impossible,  un- 
less these  become  incorporated  with 
them,  whatever  their  habits  or 
positions  in  life;  and  an  absolute 
silence  is  observed  on  the  subject 
of  their  nationality  or  society  with 
outsiders,  even  in  many  cases  Gipsies 
being  afraid  of  being  known  as  such 
to  other  Gipsies.  The  consequence 
is,  that  as  the  race  perpetuates  itself 
and  develops  its  condition,  it  main- 
tains such  a  reserve  in  regard  to  it- 


202 


APPENDIX. 


self,  that  its  members,  as  it  were,  or 
in  a  sense,  "  skulk  through  life  like 
thieves,  conspirators,  or  assassins, 
afraid  of  being  apprehended  by  all 
they  meet  with,"  in  the  event  of  these 
coming  to  learn  all  about  them, 
however  good  their  characters  may 
be. 

When  one  has  a  doubt  about  the 
spelling  of  a  word  he  writes  it  vari- 
ously, one  under  the  other,  and 
generally  picks  out  the  correct  one. 
In  the  same  way  let  him  attempt 
arguments  in  favour  of  the  native  and 
Gipsy  hypotheses  as  regards  John 
Bunyari's  nationality,  and  all  he  can 
say  of  the  former  will  be  something 
like  the  trifling  remarks  to  be  found 
in  Blackwood  's  Magazine  for  May, 
1866,  in  which  it  is  said:  — 

"John  Bunyan  was  so  exceedingly 
plain-spoken,  that  he  would  most  likely 
have  called  himself  a  Gipsy  if  he  were 
really  one,"  (p.  158). 

In  my  Disquisition  on  the  Gipsies, 
I  wrote  :  — 

"I  do  not  ask  for  an  argument  in 
favour  of  Bunyan  not  being  a  Gipsy,  but 
a  common  Englishman,  for  an  argu- 
ment of  that  kind,  beyond  such  remarks 
as  I  have  commented  on,  is  impractica- 
ble ;  but  what  I  ask  for  is  an  exposition 
of  the  animus  of  the  man  who  does  not 
wish  that  he  should  have  been  a  Gipsy," 
(p. 


It  is  a  law  in  literature,  indeed  it 
is  common-sense,  that  if  nothing 
can  be  said  in  favour  of  one  of  two 
hypotheses,  and  everything  in  favour 
of  the  other,  the  latter  must  be  ac- 
cepted as  the  truth;  and  this  we 
have  in  the  one  that  Bunyan  was  a 
Gipsy.  All  that  is  wanting  to  change 
the  hypothesis  into  a  fact  would  be 
Bunyan's  verbal  acknowledgment, 
which  the  legal  and  social  proscrip- 
tion of  the  race  and  name  would 
prevent  him  making,  and  which 
strengthens  the  Gipsy  hypothesis  as 
such;  so  that  if  we  have  not  his 
formal  confession,  we  have  his  infer- 
ential admission,  as  circumstantial 


evidence,  which  is  better  than  as- 
sertions either  way,  when  a  man's 
estate,  character,  or  life  is  at  stake. 

That  Bunyan  was  a  member  of 
the  Gipsy  tribe,  doubtless  speaking 
its  language  in  great  purity,  is  what, 
I  think,  no  one  that  has  a  regard  to 
reason  and  self-respect  should  deny, 
after  the  evidence  is  laid  before  him. 
The  principal  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  receiving  him  as  a  Gipsy  are  the 
prejudice  against  the  name,  and  the 
aversion,  as  well  as  the  great  diffi- 
culty, however  willing,  inherent  in 
human  nature,  to  adjust  its  ideas  to 
a  new  state  of  things  on  a  subject 
that  should  have  been  settled  two 
centuries  ago.  In  that  respect  it  is 
to  be  hoped  that  men  of  such  stand- 
ing as  the  Duke  of  Bedford  and 
the  Dean  of  Westminster,  who  have 
taken  so  much  interest  in  Bunyan. 
will  not  prove  "  capable  of  being  in- 
fluenced by  other  motives  than  a 
regard  for  the  evidence,  in  coming 
to  a  decision  on  the  important  mat- 
ter at  issue"  (p.  161).  Such  a  state 
of  mind  might  be  looked  for  in  that 
part  of  society  who  take  their  opin- 
ions from  others,  or  follow  their 
caprices  or  passions  when  anything 
that  is  novel,  and  opposed  to  popu- 
lar ideas  and  prejudices,  is  brought 
forward,  and  who  are  forever  shut- 
ing  their  stable  doors  after  their 
horses  have  been  stolen. 

In  the  History  of  the  Gipsies  an 
elaborate  argument  was  given  in 
favour  of  John  Bunyan  having  been 
a  Gipsy,  with  full  information  of  how 
and  when  the  race  assumed  the 
names  common  to  the  natives  of  the 
soil.  I  repeated  the  argument  in 
Contributions ,  and  again  in  Notes 
and  Queries,  on  the  3d  of  March, 
1875,  and  printed  the  article  as  an 
appendix  to  the  book  (which  see), 
in  reply  to  The  Book  of  the  Bun- 
yan Festival  and  the  Sunday  Maga- 
zine for  January,  1875;  in  both  of 
which  there  was  a  great  flourish 
of  trumpets  over  the  discovery 
that  there  were  people  of  the  name 
of  Bunyan  (variously  spelt)  in  Bed- 


THE  ENDOWMENT  OF  RESEARCH. 


203 


fordshire  before  the  arrival  of  the 
Gipsies  ;  which  "  effectually  disposes 
of  the  supposition  that  the  Bun- 
yans  were  Gipsies,"  and  which  as 
"  effectually  disposes  of  the  suppo- 
sition "  that  there  are  Gipsies  in  the 
country  at  the  present  day,  since 
they  all,  so  far  as  I  know,  bear  Brit- 
ish names  !  I  have  seen  no  further 
allusion  to  the  subject,  nor  indeed 
any  reference,  at  any  time,  to  the 
affirmative  side  of  the  question  in 
the  Sunday  Magazine,  although  it 
has  been  furnished  with  all  the  evi- 
dence in  regard  to  it.  Indeed,  two 
prominent  Scotchmen,  each  control- 
ling an  organ,  which  should  have  en- 
tertained this  question,  have  gone  to 
their  graves  without  apparently  dar- 
ing to  look  it  in  the  face.  How 
strange  it  is  that  "champions  of  the 
truth  and  standard-bearers  of  the 
Lord,"  that  might  lay  their  necks  on 
the  block,  or  go  to  the  stake,  for  their 
religious  professions  and  opinions, 
will  yet  (so  far  as  I  can  judge)  quail 
before  Mrs.  Grundy  on  being  asked 
to  entertain  the  question  whether  or 
not  John  Bunyan  was  a  Gipsy ! 
And  yet  in  recognizing  and  dis- 
charging the  duties  incumbent  on 
them  in  the  service  of  their  divine 
master,  what  could  be  more  simple 
or  elementary  than  to  acknowledge 
people  to  be  men,  whatever  the  race 
they  belong  to,  before  attempting  to 
make  them  Christians  ? 

It  would  also  be  strange  to  have 
it  said  that,  in  the  year  1878,  the 
British  press,  religious  or  secular, 
would  not  tolerate  the  idea  that 
John  Bunyan  was  a  Gipsy  even  to 
appear  in  its  columns ;  and  that 
people  frowned  upon  or  became 
fired  with  indignation  at  the  bare 
mention  of  it,  while  they  wondered 
that,  if  it  were  so,  Bunyan  should 
not  have  told  us  plainly  of  the  fact, 
when  it  was  odious  to  the  rest  of  the 
population,  and  death  by  law,  for 
being  a  Gipsy,  and  "  felony  without 
benefit  of  clergy "  for  associating 
with  the  race,  or  even  being  found 


in  its  company.     In  Contributions  I 
have  said : — 

"  In  mentioning  that  much  of  himself 
which  he  did,  Bunyan  doubtless  imag- 
ined that  the  world  understood,  or 
would  have  understood,  what  he  meant, 
and  would,  sooner  or  later,  acknowledge 
the  race  to  which  he  belonged  ; "  and 
that,  "  it  is  not  impossible  that  people 
intimate  with  Bunyan  learned  from  his 
own  mouth  that  he  was  a  Gipsy,  but 
suppressed  the  information  under  the 
influence  of  the  unfortunate  prejudice 
that  exists  against  the  name  "  (p.  1 58).* 

Settling  this  question  in  the  affirm- 
ative would  resemble  a  decision  in 
a  supreme  court  of  justice  in  a  case 
that  is  representative  of  many 
others ;  and  could  not  fail  to  have 
an  immense  influence  on  the  raising 
up  of  the  Gipsy  tribe,  to  which  Bun- 
yan belonged. 

I  have  said  that  subjects  that  are 
capable  of  proof  "  should  be  settled 
by  evidence  as  a  fact  is  proved  in  a 
court  of  justice;  difficulties,  supposi- 
tions, or  theories  not  being  allowed 
to  form  part  of  the  testimony  "  (p. 
28),  whether  that  evidence  is  positive, 
or  circumstantial,  or  mixed.  How 
would  it  look  if  it  were  maintained 
that  any  question  should  be  decided 
by  any  one,  or  by  any  number  of 
people,  in  the  negative,  by  the  mere 
assertion  of  its  belief  in  its  non-ex- 
istence, without  any  investigation, 
rather  than  by  evidence  being  led  to 
prove  the  affirmative  ?  And  yet  many 
people,  of  whom  better  things  could 
be  expected,  especially  in  regard  to 
crude  popular  beliefs,  of  long  stand- 
ing, but  not  religious  in  their  nature, 
practically  maintain,  with  the  most 
complacent  assurance  and  sincerity, 
the  negative  unless  the  affirmative 


*  "  In  order  to  discover  truth,  we  must 
be  truthful  ourselves,  and  must  welcome 
those  who  point  out  our  errors  as  heartily 
as  those  who  approve  and  confirm  our 
discoveries." — Max  Muller,  "Chips  from 
a  German  Workshop"  1st  vol., p.  1 6,  New 
York  edition. 


2O4 


APPENDIX. 


can  be  proved,  or  vice  versd;  which 
is  no  proof  of,  and  does  not  even 
affect,  the  question  either  way ;  for 
the  negative  or  the  affirmative  may 
be  true,  irrespective  of  the  igno- 
rance and  denial,  or  the  knowledge 
and  assertion,  of  people  interesting 
themselves  in  the  questions  at  issue. 
These  are  all  doubtless  truisms,  but 
although  truisms  not  the  less 
worthy  of  being  kept  in  mind  when 
we  treat  any  subject  of  which  the 
mind  can  or  does  take  cognizance. 

Nor  could  it  be  almost  imagined 
that,  in  a  constitutional  country,  in 
time  of  peace,  with  the  courts  in 
full  operation,  any  question  that  is 
actionable  should  be  denied  even  a 
hearing  by  a  competent  court,  on 
the  plea  of  favouring  the  defendant, 
or  on  account  of  the  absence  of  the 
plaintiff  (provided  he  employs  an 
accredited  attorney,  and  gives 
security  for  costs),  or  to  gratify 
popular  prejudices  against  a  suit 
that  is  legal  and  moral  in  its  nature. 
The  same  may  be  said  of  the  laws 
and  courts  of  criticism,  for  if  they 
are  in  a  sound  state  they  will  at 
once  entertain,  discuss,  and  settle 
any  and  every  question  suitable  to 
the  journal  before  which  it  is 
brought.  It  is  unquestionably 
within  their  sphere  to  entertain  de- 
murrers, and  see  that  they  are  re- 
spected, to  the  extent  at  least  that 
no  one  can  be  allowed  to  make  as- 
sertions, and  assertions  only,  after 
they  have  been  repeatedly  denied, 
with  proofs  of  denial,  or  arguments 
showing  them  to  be  untenable,  or 
highly  improbable.  They  should 
also  see  that  no  denial  or  assertion 
is  permitted  unless  it  is  accompanied 
by  evidence,  or  an  argument  in  its 
favour. 

As  illustrative  of  what  I  mean  by 
demurrers,  I  give  the  article  entitled 
Mr.  Frank  Buckland  on  English 
Snakes,  in  which  he  said  : — • 

"  The  mother  generally  deposits  them 

Sier  eggs]  in  a  dung-hill  or  heap  of 
ecaying  vegetable  matter,   and  gives 


herself  no  more  concern  about  them," 
(P-  30- 

To  which  my  reply  read  thus : — 

"  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  how 
Mr.  Buckland  arrived  at  that  conclusion, 
that  is,  how  he  knew  that  the  mother 
'  gave  herself  no  more  concern  about 
them,'  but  left  the  young  to  come  into 
the  world  and  take  care  of  themselves 
in  the  best  way  they  could,"  (p.  31). 

And  I  argued,  inductively  and  by 
analogy  from  the  habit  of  other  ovip- 
arous reptilia  taking  care  of  their 
progeny,  that  what  Mr.  Buckland 
asserted  was  not  true ;  leaving  him 
to  make  good  his  assertion  by  proof, 
positive  or  otherwise. 

If  it  is  wrong  to  believe  that  to  be 
a  truth  which  has  never  been  in- 
vestigated, it  becomes  culpable  to 
enunciate  it  as  such.  No  intelli- 
gent and  self-respecting  man  will 
ever  be  knowingly  and  deliberately 
guilty  of  that,  and  far  less  of  deny- 
ing that  to  be  a  fact  which  he  does 
not  know  to  be  a  fact  or  not,  or  act 
factiously  in  the  matter.  Indeed  it 
may  be  asserted  that  such  a  person 
has  no  moral  right,  not  merely  to 
publicly  or  privately  express  an 
opinion  on  a  great  variety  of  sub- 
jects, but  even  to  entertain  one, 
unless  he  has  thoroughly  examined 
them,  or  had  it  done  for  him,  when 
the  most  that  he  might  be  justified 
in  saying  would  be  that  such  a  thing 
is  possible  or  impossible,  probable 
or  improbable,  and  be  willing  and 
ready  to  give  his  reasons  at  length 
for  his  opinion,  whatever  it  might 
be.  Candour,  in  short,  is  so  emi- 
nently a  virtue,  that  it  might  have 
been  worshipped  (as  it  doubtless 
was)  in  heathen  times,  as  a  deity, 
having  a  temple  in  every  parish, 
and  a  shrine  at  every  cross-road, 
with  the  notice  : — "  No  dogmatist 
allowed  here." 

With  so  much  that  is  aggressive 
in  this  Appendix,  and  in  the  work 
to  which  it  belongs,  and  conse- 
quently with  so  much  that  must  be 


THE  ENDOWMENT  OF  RESEARCH. 


20$ 


more  or  less  offensive,  and  unavoid- 
ably so,  to  many,  although  I  hope 
not  to  all,  however  the  subjects  might 
be  treated,  for  "  it  is  impossible  but 
that  offences  will  come,"  I  feel  that 
in  publishing  them  in  Great  Britain, 
I  must,  in  some  respects,  resemble 
(but  resemble  only)  "  a  desperate 
adventurer  landing  on  a  coast,  and 
burning  his  ships,  and  committing 
himself  to  fortune,"  and  of  whom  it 
could  be  most  appropriately  said  :— 

"  Woe  to  the  coward,  that  ever  he  was 

born, 

Who  did  not  draw  the  sword  before  he 
blew  the  horn." 

Still,  in  England,  there  is  that  sense 
of  dignity  and  honourable  dealing 
among  high-class,  high-toned  jour- 
nals, that  if  they  do  not  entertain  or 
do  justice  to  the  book  (or  rather  to 
the  subjects  discussed  in  it),  they 
will  not  abuse  it.  And,  besides  that, 
there  is  a  strong  conservative  feel- 
ing peculiar  to  most  of  them  that 
impels  them  to  be  careful  in  regard 
to  what  they  introduce  to  their  read- 
ers; which  is  a  great  drawback  to 
anything  novel  or  original,  whatever 
its  truth  or  attraction,  being  given 
to  the  world  through  their  pages. 
But  as  all  of  the  subjects  treated  are 
of  a  permanent  nature  and  interest, 
the  work  can  wait  till  it  suits  the 
convenience  or  pleasure  of  these 
journals  to  take  it  up,  after  it  has 
become  more  conventional  to  do  so 
than  seems  to  be  the  case  at  present. 
As  regards  myself  personally,  I  have 
no  requests  to  make  of  any  kind,  for 
even  the  commonest  "  rough  "  there, 
when  a  stranger  gets  into  trouble, 
will  generally  call  for  "  a  ring  and 
fair  play." 

In  this  light  read  the  accompany- 
ing notice  of  the  book  by  the  Edin- 
burgh Scotsman,  the  leading  Scotch 
newspaper,  whose  character  would  be 
the  following,  if  I  were  describing  a 
man  in  every-day  life  : — that  is,  well- 
educated,  talented,  enterprising,  not 
over-scrupulous,  and  wealthy,  very 
tyrannical  by  nature,  and  of  great 


personal  importance,  but  of  no  fami- 
ly, pedigree,  or  connexions  worth 
speaking  of,  yet  whose  motto  is, 
"  A  fig  for  providence,  but  come  to 
me  !  " 

He  is  a  great  professor  of  hu- 
manity, liberalism,  science,  and  so 
forth,  and  the  patron  and  mouth- 
piece of  a  large  "  promiscuous  lot  " 
in  regard  to  their  opinions  and  in- 
terests (many  of  which  are  ques- 
tionable), and  undefined  and  almost 
undefmable  religious  sentiments ; 
and  is  very  free,  even  tyrannically 
so,  in  his  unprovoked  remarks  on 
almost  all  that  differ  from  him,  or 
are  not  of  his  "following,"  gener- 
ally to  an  extent  of  being  uncalled 
for,  indelicate  or  impertinent,  and 
frequently  nearly  if  not  altogether 
scurrilous — amplifying  and  harping 
on  subjects  and  persons  till  his  spun- 
out  questionable  wit  and  palpable 
animus  become  tiresome  and  offen- 
sive even  to  those  who  generally  re- 
gard him  as  an  oracle.  Moreover, 
he  is  "a  godless  old  fellow  withal," 
to  whom  anything  like  sincere  prac- 
tical religion,  based  on  the  Christian 
evidences,  with  clearly-defined  ideas, 
when  publicly  expressed  outside  of 
the  regular  church  service,  is  gener- 
ally offensive,  and  frequently  provo- 
cative of  all  kinds  of  bantering,  jeer- 
ing, and  gibing.  My  allusions  to  the 
Pope  and  John  Stuart  Mill,  and  the 
aspects  of  natural  and  revealed  re- 
ligion, incidentally  brought  in,  and, 
above  all,  the  public  appeal  to  the 
Scottish  Clergy,  seem  to  have  acted 
on  him  like  the  shaking  of  a  red  rag 
in  his  face,  and  become  a  subject  to 
be  discredited,  if  not  destroyed.  In- 
deed, if  one  takes  even  an  Ishmael- 
itish  squint  in  the  direction  of  the 
Ark  in  daylight,  he  has  to  reckon  with 
another  whose  eyes  are  globules  of 
water  and  who  lacks  bowels  for  such 
a  subject — an  excellent  "  defender 
of  the  faith  "  against  its  unauthor- 
ized or  injudicious  friendsv 

Many  sensible,  learned,  and  pious, 
and  what  are  called  good  men  (and 
many  not  possessed  of  all  of  these 


206 


APPENDIX. 


attributes),  who  are  entitled  to  pro- 
mulgate their  opinions,  and  be  fairly 
treated  or  "  let  alone,"  have  been  lit- 
tle better  than  systematically  perse- 
cuted—frequently almost  roasted  or 
blistered — or  attempted  to  be  made 
odious  by  the  "  Scottish  Thunderer," 
as  his  admirers  style  him,  apparently 
with  the  object  of  giving  pleasure 
to  himself  and  friends,  and  pain  to 
those  so  treated.  Pious  and  peace- 
able people,  possessing  a  fine  sense 
of  self-respect,  deeming  it  unbecom- 
ing, at  least  unprofitable,  to  bandy 
words  with  him,  or  lay  themselves 
open  to  his  animadversions,  to  a 
great  extent  disregard  him,  especi- 
ally when  the  fit  of  "  fractious  con- 
trariness "  is  upon  him,  for  the 
reason  that  they  consider  "  his 
tongue  no  scandal ;  "  and  so  far  as 
I  know  or  can  conceive,  they  will 
not  even  pray  for  him,  that  he  may 
be  converted  or  rebuked,  believing 
that,  in  "  the  present  state  of  his 
soul,"  any  good  person  or  cause  that 
he  abuses  is  greatly  honoured  and 
ultimately  benefited  by  his  hostility, 
however  influential  he  may  be,  in  the 
estimation  of  himself  and  friends,  in 
the  affairs  of  the  city,  the  nation,  and 
the  world  at  large — although  gener- 
ally, passively  or  actively,  opposed, 
even  faetiously  so,  to  almost  every 
movement,  whatever  its  nature,  that 
does  not  originate  with  him,  his 
friends,  or  his  party,  or  that  does  not 
seek  or  care  for,  and  particularly  that 
scorns  their  patronage  or  sympathy. 
A  book  like  the  present  one, 
finding  its  way  to  Edinburgh  from 
America,  under  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances of  this  one — a  thing  of  rare 
occurrence  in  Scotland — was  entitled 
to  some  little  consideration  from 
even  such  a  journal  as  the  Scotsman. 
It  does  not  seem  to  have  come  be- 
fore the  celebrated  Jeffrey,  who, 
when  acting  under  a  high  sense  of 
responsibility,  would  doubtless  have 
approached  it  as  a  careful,  cautious 
man  would  have  acted  when  pick- 
ing his  steps  in  dim  twilight,  among 
broken  glass  and  rusty  nails,  bare- 


footed, with  the  consciousness  of 
having  a  ruffian  waiting  to  throttle 
him  as  he  got  through.  It  rather 
had  the  misfortune  of  "  coming  un- 
der the  eye  "  of  the  notorious  Jef- 
freys, alluded  to  by  Macaulay  m  his 
History  of  England,  as  follows  : — 

"  Early  in  June  the  Fellows  [of  Mag- 
dalene College]  were  cited  to  appear  be- 
fore the  High  Commission  at -Whitehall. 
Five  of  them,  deputed  by  the  rest,  obeyed 
the  summons.  Jeffreys  treated  them  after 
the  usual  fashion.  When  one  of  them, 
a  grave  doctor,  named  Fairfax,  hinted 
some  doubt  as  to  the  validity  of  the  com- 
mission, the  Chancellor  began  to  roar 
like  a  wild  beast.  '  Who  is  this  man  ? 
What  commission  has  he  to  be  impu- 
dent here  ?  Seize  him.  Put  him  into  a 
dark  room.  What  does  he  do  without  a 
keeper  ?  He  is  under  my  care  as  a  luna- 
tic. I  wonder  that  nobody  has  applied 
to  me  for  the  custody  of  him.'  " 

With  what  I  have  said,  illustrative 
of  the  "habit  and  repute"  character 
of  the  critic,  or  rather  of  the  jour- 
nal which  he  represents,  I  will  now 
"  let  the  man  speak  for  himself,"  re- 
marking that  I  would  much  rather 
swaddle  a  person  in  swan's-down 
and  cover  him  with  gossamer,  or  fan 
him  to  keep  the  life  in  him,  than  put 
him  into  a  vise  and  rasp  him,  but 
for  the  principle  propounded  or  ad- 
mitted even,  I  believe,  by  a  Quaker, 
that  "  We  must  not  allow  silly  pity 
to  rob  justice  of  her  due  and  the 
people  of  a  proper  example,"  especi- 
ally with  such  an  "old  offender  "  as 
the  Scotsman, — the  Great  Liberal !  of 
whom  it  could  or  could  not  be  said 
that  "aiblins  he'll  mend." 

"  What  may  be  the  ordinary  calling 
of  Mr.  James  Simson,  of  New  York,  is 
not  known  to  us  ;  but  to  judge  from 
this  volume  of  Contributions  to  Natural 
History,  etc.,  his  mission  is  to  set  every- 
body else  right  with  respect  to  the  hab- 
its of  snakes,  the  abilities  as  a  natural- 
ist of  the  late  Charles  Waterton,  the 
errors  of  Romanism,  the  real  character 
of  John  Stuart  Mill  and  his  father,  James 
Mill,  and  the  manners  and  customs  of 
the  Gipsies.  The  papers  included  in  the 
volume  are  in  part  reprinted  from  Land 


THE  ENDOWMENT  OF  RESEARCH. 


207 


and  Water ;  others  were  sent  for  inser- 
tion in  that  periodical,  but  its  conductors 
had  too  much  discretion  to  insert  them 
[they  were  politely  « returned  by  request/ 
as  stated  in  the  Introduction  to  the 
work]  ;  the  rest  have  been  added  as  the 
result  of  labours  undertaken  in  time 
during  which  it  is  a  great  pity  Mr.  Sim- 
son  could  find  nothing  better  to  do.  .  .  . 
He  accumulates  a  mass  of  evidence  to 
prove  that  young  snakes  are  in  the  habit, 
after  being  hatched  outside,  of  taking 
refuge  inside  their  parents'  bodies  on 
very  small  provocation ;  but  this  evi- 
dence it  would  be  found  very  difficult 
to  sift  or  test,  and  the  impertinent  dog- 
matism with  which  Mr.  Simson  treats 
Buckland,  White  of  Selborne,  and  other 
naturalists  who  do  not  favour  his  views, 
is,  of  itself,  sufficient  to  warrant  a  doubt 
as  to  the  value  of  his  observations.  Mr. 
Simson's  remarks  on  Waterton,  and  es- 
pecially on  Mill,  are  neither  more  nor 
less  than  a  string  of  absurd  and  point- 
less criticisms,  interspersed  with  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  personal  abuse.  The 
puzzle  is,  why  he  should  suppose  that  his 
views  on  Waterton  and  Mill  are  of  the 
smallest  importance  to  any  human  be- 
ing except  himself.  The  volume  is  alto- 
gether a  literary  curiosity,  presenting  a 
combination  of  bigotry  and  egotism  such 
as  it  would  not  be  easy  to  parallel." 
(June  loth,  1875). 

In  regard  to  James  Mill,  the  father 
of  John  Stuart  Mill,  I  have  said 
that 

"  It  was  after  finally  breaking  with 
the  Church,  perhaps  in  consequence  of 
disappointment  of  a  benefice,  and  of  the 
restraint  on  his  godless  opinions,  that  he 
gave  vent  to  all  his  spitefulness  against 
religion  of  every  kind,  natural  as  well  as 
revealed"  (p.  71). 

In  his  Life  of  James  Mill,  in 
Mind,  a  London  quarterly  review, 
Professor  Bain  says  of  him  : — 

"  The  latest  recorded  incident  of  his 
career  in  Scotland  is  his  being  defeated 
in  his  attempt  to  become  minister  of  the 
pleasant  parish  of  Craig,  a  long  narrow 
strip  of  uplands  lying  on  the  coast 
between  Montrose  and  the  Bay  of  Lunan. 
Mill  could  have  taken  care  of  such  a 
parish  [as  parishes  were  then  frequently 
'taken  care  of],  and  yet  have  found 


time  for  his  favourite  studies,  working 
his  way  to  authorship,  and  perhaps  a 
chair  in  a  university  "  (p.  1 1 5). 

Powerful  as  was  his  influence, 
that  of  his  rival,  James  Brewster  (a 
brother  of  Sir  David  Brewster),  was 
more  so.  It  is  added  : — "  Brewster 
was  a  man  far  more  acceptable  to 
an  ordinary  congregation  than  ever 
Mill  could  have  been." 

Professor  Bain  says  that  the  popu- 
lar idea  of  Mill's  disappointment 
being  the  cause  of  his  going  to  Lon- 
don, in  the  beginning  of  1802,  was 
a  mere  guess,  for  with  his  friends 
he  would  soon  have  found  a  church. 
But  no  allowance  is  made  for  his 
chagrin,  his  hasty  temper,  or  the 
delay  (nearly  eighteen  months)  till 
the  case  was  settled,  after  the  resig- 
nation of  the  incumbent,  in  June, 
1803,  under  circumstances  which 
are  not  explained.  We  find  Mill 
writing  from  London,  on  the  7th  of 
February,  1807,  to  Mr.  David  Bar- 
clay, as  follows : — 

"  Have  you  no  good  kirk  yet  in  your 
neighbourhood  [as  if  he  had  given  him 
a  standing  commission  from  the  first  to 
find  him  one]  which  you  could  give  me, 
and  free  me  from  this  life  of  toil  and 
anxiety  which  I  lead  here?"  (p.  530).* 

It  was  doubtless  with  this  in  view 
that  he  carefully  kept  his  sermons, 
about  which  Professor  Bain  says  :— 

"I  cannot  account  for  John  Stuart 
Mill's  uncertainty  as  to  whether  his 
father  had  been  licensed  to  preach.  I 
have  been  told  by  members  of  the  family 
that  their  father  s  sermons  were  known 
to  be  in  the  house.  What  became  of 
them  no  one  can  tell"  (p.  ill).  (Per- 
haps they  were  surreptitiously  de- 
stroyed). 

This  remark  has  reference  to  his 

*  There  is  nothing  to  show  that  James 
Mill  did  not  write  to  others  to  the  same 
effect,  even  subsequently  to  the  time 
mentioned,  particularly  as  Professor  Bain 
says  that,  "  with  his  friends  he  would 
soon  have  found  a  church." 


208 


APPENDIX. 


inquiry  addressed  to  Mr.  Barclay  in 
regard  to  his  father,  after  his  death, 
in  which  he  said  : — 

"I  believe  he  went  through  a  medical 
course,  and  also  that  for  the  Church, 
and  I  have  heard  that  he  was  actually 
licensed  as  a  preacher,  but  I  never  heard 
him  say  so  himself,  and  never  heard  of 
it  till  after  his  death.  I  do  not  know 
whether  it  is  true  or  not ;  perhaps  you 
do"  (p.  104).* 

Professor  Bain  writes  : — 

"The  account  given  by  John  Stuart 
Mill  (Autobiography)  of  his  father's 
introduction  to  the  Fettercairn  family  is 
a  somewhat  loose  version  of  the  state- 
ment made  to  him  by  Mr.  David  Bar- 
clay in  a  letter  written  after  his  father's 
death  in  1836"  (p.  104). 

His  father's  "  apostolic  labours," 
after  being  licensed  by  the  Presby- 
tery to  "  preach  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ,"  seem  to  have  been  anything 
but  acceptable.  The  evidence  shows 
that 

"  The  generality  of  the  hearers  com- 
plained of  not  being  able  to  understand 

*  The  ignorance  of  John  Stuart  Mill  on 
this  point,  however  we  may  look  at  it,  is 
remarkable.  It  must  surely  have  occur- 
red to  him  to  ask  his  father,  for  what  pur- 
pose he  went  to  college,  if  not  when  re- 
ceiving his  education  from  him  person- 
ally, at  least  after  he  grew  up.  And  the 
idea  would  again  naturally  present  itself 
to  him  when  being  instructed  in  the  ir- 
religious principles  impressed  on  his 
mind  almost  from  his  earliest  recollec- 
tions. Mill  by  his  admission  seems  to 
have  had  very  little  curiosity  about  his 
father's  early  history,  or  no  means  of 
information  on  the  subject  from  his 
father's  early  Scotch  associates  or  con- 
nexions, or  acquaintances  of  any  kind  ; 
yet  it  must  have  been  well  known  to  the 
public  at  large,  owing  to  his  notoriety, 
that  James  Mill  was  a  "  stickit  stibbler," 
as  the  Scotch  call  a  "  minister "  who 
never  finds  a  church  and  abandons  the 
profession  in  consequence.  The  reticence 
of  James  Mill,  under  certain  circum- 
stances, was  natural  enough,  but  incon- 
sistent with  his  allowing  his  sermons  to 
"  knock  about  "  the  house,  to  the  know- 
ledge of  "  members  of  the  family,"  John 
Stuart  Mill  excepted. 


him.  Other  traditions  concur  in  regard 
to  his  unpopular  style.  Sir  David 
Brewster  said  to  myself,  '  I  have  heard 
him  preach  ;  and  no  great  han'  he  made 
o't.'  His  discourses  would  no  doubt  be 
severely  reasoned,  but  wanting  in  the 
unction  of  the  popular  evangelical 
preacher  "  [who  sincerely  believed  what 
he  taught]  (p.  in). 

James  Mill  was  born  on  the  6th 
of  April,  1773,  went  to  college  at 
Edinburgh  in  1790,  was  licensed  as 
a  preacher  on  the  4th  of  October, 
1798,  and  went  to  London  in  the 
beginning  of  1802,  after  being  dis- 
appointed in  getting  a  church.  On 
the  7th  of  February,  1807,  when  34 
years  of  age,  and  nearly  a  year  after 
the  birth  of  John  Stuart  Mill,  we 
find  him,  as  we  have  seen,  writing 
to  a  friend  in  Scotland,  asking  him 
if  he  had  not  yet  found  him  a  good 
kirk  in  his  neighbourhood.  What 
John  Stuart  Mill  said  with  reference 
to  his  father's  religious  history  is  as 
follows : — 

*'  He was    licensed    as    a 

preacher,  but  never  followed  the  profes- 
sion, having  satisfied  himself  that  he 
could  not  believe  the  doctrines  of  that 
or  any  other  church  "  (p.  69,  Auto.  p.  3), 
having  "been  early  led  to  reject  not 
only  the  belief  in  Revelation,  but  the 
foundations  of  what  is  commonly  called 
Natural  Religion  "  (p.  69,  Auto.  p.  38). 
He  "  rejected  all  that  is  called  religious 
belief"  (p.  73,  Auto.  p.  39").  "He  re- 
garded it  with  the  feeling  due  not  to  a 
mere  mental  delusion,  but  to  a  great 
moral  evil.  He  looked  upon  it  as  the 
greatest  enemy  to  morality,"  and  as 
"  radically  vitiating  the  standard  of 
morals  "  (p.  73,  Auto.  p.  40),  and  "not 
only  false,  but  hurtful "  (p.  76,  Auto.  p. 
45)  ;  and  that  "  the  most  perfect  con- 
ception of  wickedness  which  the  human 
mind  can  devise  "  is  "  embodied  in  what 
is  commonly  presented  to  mankind  as 
the  creed  of  Christianity  "  (p.  76,  Auto. 
P.  41). 

Here  we  have  a  dismal  chasm  to 
be  bridged,  for  no  value  can  be  at- 
tached to  John  Stuart  Mill's  re- 
marks on  this  subject.  I  have  al- 
ready said : — 


THE  ENDOWMENT  OF  RESEARCH. 


2O9 


"  There  is  so  much  in  the  Autobi- 
ography that  is  so  illy  arranged,  and  so 
loosely  and  illogically  put  together,  that 
among  other  things,  the  positive  truth 
cannot  be  drawn  from  it  in  regard  to 
the  stages  of  the  elder  Mill's  religious 
ideas ;  and  there  is  much  that  requires 
explanation  about  him  consenting  to  be 
educated  by  others  for  the  Church,  and 
being  licensed  to  preach  at  the  age  of 
twenty-five,  and  then  becoming  a  practi- 
cal atheist"  (p.  69).  "The  circum- 
stances and  details  between  the  first 
doubt  and  the  final  step,  had  he  been 
able  and  willing  to  give  them,  would 
doubtless  have  been  interesting  "  (p.  70). 

And  yet  John  Stuart  Mill  says  of 
his  father  that 

"  He  will  be  known  to  posterity  as 
one  of  the  greatest  names  in  that  most 
important  branch  of  speculation  on 
which  all  the  moral  [?]  and  political 
sciences  ultimately  rest  "  (p.  108,  Auto. 
p.  204) ;  and  that  "  by  his  writings  and 
his  personal  influence  he  was  a  great 
centre  of  light  to  his  generation"  (p. 
1 08,  Auto.  p.  205). 

The  course  of  the  elder  Mill  in 
the  matter  of  seeking  a  church — a 
position  that,  above  all  others,  should 
be  assumed  with  "  clean  hands  and  a 
pure  heart  " — was  a  practical,  one- 
sided illustration  of  his  doctrine, 
that  "  the  exclusive  test  of  right  and 
wrong  [is]  the  tendency  of  actions 
to  produce  pleasure  or  pain  "  (Auto., 
p.  48),  that  is,  pleasure  to  himself 
and  his  immediate  connexions,  how- 
ever it  might  be  acquired,  and  how- 
ever it  might  affect  others.  Utility  as 
"  a  standard  in  ethics  and  politics," 
when  its  professed  motive  is  the 
benefit  of  "  the  aggregate  of  our  fel- 
low creatures,"  or  "  the  greatest 
happiness  of  the  greatest  number," 
should  not  be  scrutinized  too  closely 
when  the  animus  is  hid  from  us; 
but  it  assumes  quite  a  different  as- 
pect when  the  action  is  that  of  a 
would-be  moral  obtruder  on  a  parish 
and  the  "  cure  of  souls  "  that  are  to 
be  fed,  not  on  "  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ,"  but  on  the  husks  of  his 
philosophy  and  logic,  which  the 


generality  or  perhaps  the  whole  of 
**  his  people  "  would  not  understand. 
And  it  would  be  a  singular  "  system 
of  morals "  which  advocated  or 
tolerated  the  idea  that,  while  not 
believing  the  doctrines  on  the  sworn 
profession  of  which  he  was  admitted 
to  his  "  pastorate,"  he  should  "  take 
care  of  the  parish,"  with  the  ulterior 
object  of  "working  his  way  to  author- 
ship, and  perhaps  a  chair  in  a  uni- 
versity," on  something  better  than 
"a  little  oatmeal,"  although  that 
would  of  course  make  part  of  his 
support. 

The  history  of  both  of  the  Mills, 
especially  in  regard  to  the  religious 
ideas,  from  first  to  last,  of  James 
Mill,  as  representing  a  class,  is  well 
worthy  of  a  "  research."  It  must 
have  been  a  difficult  matter  for  the 
latter  to  throw  off  the  effects  of  his 
associations  and  training,  and  his 
long-continued  aspirations  after  a 
church,  whatever  the  "  history  of  his 
mind  "  or  his  sincerity  might  have 
been.  At  all  events  we  find  him,  in 
October,  1816,  when  John  Stuart 
Mill  was  upwards  of  ten  years  old, 
writing  of  his  History  of  India  as 
follows : — 

"  Thank  God,  after  nearly  ten  years 
since  its  commencement,  I  am  now  re- 
vising it  for  the  press  "  (Bain).  * 

The  executors  of  John  Stuart 
Mill  have  been  greatly  blamed  for 
publishing  his  melancholy  and  of- 
fensive Autobiography,  but  doubt- 
less unjustly  so;  for,  for  what  pur- 
pose was  it  written  ?  and  how  do  we 
know  that  he  did  not  enjoin  on  them 
by  all  which  he  deemed  sacred  that 
they  would  not  fail  to  give  it  to  the 
world  ? 

The  subjects  of  John  Stuart  Mill 
and  Romanism  are  naturally  provo- 


*  I  have  not  been  able  to  see  more  than 
the  first  two  articles  of  Professor  Bain,  in 
Mind,  but  I  presume  the  rest  of  them  will 
shed  no  further  light  on  James  Mill's 
religious  ideas. 


2IO 


APPENDIX. 


cative  of  something  more  being  said 
on  that  comprehensive  idea  ex- 
pressed by  the  phrase  "  human  nat- 
ure," in  its  physical,  moral,  and  relig- 
ious aspects,  as  applicable  to  man  in- 
dividually and  collectively,  in  the 
past,  the  present,  and  the  future ;  but 
it  would  result  in  a  treatise,  branch- 
ing off  into  many  cognate  questions, 
that  would  be  too  long  to  form  part 
of  this  Appendix,  and  contain  mat- 


ter perhaps  too  foreign  to  be  em- 
braced under  the  title. 


NOTE. — I  find  that,  at  page  51,  I  have 
put  into  the  mouth  of  Plato  the  prayer 
beginning,  "  O  Pan,  and  ye  other  gods  of 
this  place,"  while  it  was  that  of  Socrates 
— the  "  wisest  of  mankind  " — as  reported 
by  Plato.  The  error  is  not  material,  for 
such  a  prayer  was  addressed  to  Pan,  in 
common  with  all  the  so-called  gods  and 
goddesses,  by  the  ancient  heathen. 


SECOND    EDITION. 


SIMSON'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  GIPSIES. 

575  PAGES.    CROWN  8vo.    PRICE,  $2.00. 


NOTICES  OF  THE  AMERICAN  PRESS. 

National  Quarterly  Review.—"  The  title  of  this  work  gives 
a  correct  idea  of  its  character ;  the  matter  fully  justifies  it.  Even  in  its 
original  form  it  was  the  most  interesting  and  reliable  history  of  the 
Gipsies  with  which  we  were  acquainted.  But  it  is  now  much  en- 
larged, and  brought  down  to  the  present  time.  The  disquisition  on  the 
past,  present,  and  future  of  that  singular  race,  added  by  the  editor, 
greatly  enhances  the  value  of  the  work,  for  it  embodies  the  results  of 
extensive  research  and  careful  investigation."  "  The  chapter  on  the  Gip- 
sy language  should  be  read  by  all  who  take  any  interest  either  in  com- 
parative philology  or  ethnology ;  for  it  is  much  more  curious  and  in- 
structive than  most  people  would  expect  from  the  nature  of  the  subject. 
The  volume  is  well  printed  and  neatly  bound,  and  has  the  advantage  of 
a  copious  alphabetical  index." 

Congregational  Revieiv.  (Boston.)— "  The  senior  partner  in 
the  authorship  of  this  book  was  a  Scotchman  who  made  it  his  life-long 
pleasure  to  go  a  '  Gipsy  hunting,'  to  use  his  own  phrase.  He  was  a  per- 
sonal friend  of  Sir  Walter  Scott His  enthusiasm  was  genuine,  his 

diligence  great,  his  sagacity  remarkable,  and  his  discoveries  rewarding." 
"  The  book  is  undoubtedly  the  fullest  and  most  reliable  which  our  lan- 
guage contains  on  the  subject."  "  This  volume  is  valuable  for  its  in- 
struction, and  exceedingly  amusing  anecdotically.  It  overruns  with  the 
humorous."  "  The  subject  in  its  present  form  is  novel,  and  we  freely 
add,  very  sensational."  "  Indeed,  the  book  assures  us  that  our  country 
is  full  of  this  people,  mixed  up  as  they  have  become,  by  marriage,  with 
all  the  European  stocks  during  the  last  three  centuries.  The  amalgama 
tion  has  done  much  to  merge  them  in  the  general  current  of  modern 
education  and  civilization  ;  yet  they  retain  their  language  with  closest 
tenacity,  as  a  sort  of  Freemason  medium  of  intercommunion  ;  and 
while  they  never  are  willing  to  own  their  origin  among  outsiders,  they 
are  very  proud  of  it  among  themselves."  "  We  had  regarded  them  as 
entitled  to  considerable  antiquity,  but  we  now  find  that  they  were  none 
other  than  the  '  mixed  multitude '  which  accompanied  the  Hebrew  ex- 
ode  (Ex.  XII  38)  under  Moses— straggling  or  disaffected  Egyptians,  who 
went  along  to  ventilate  their  discontent,  or  to  improve  their  fortunes. 
....  We  are  not  prepared  to  take  issue  with  these  authors  on  any  of 
the  points  raised  by  them." 

Methodist  Quarterly  "Review. — "  Have  we  Gipsies  among 
us  ?  Yea,  verily,  if  Mr.  Simson  is  to  be  believed,  they  swarm  our  country 
in  secret  legions.  There  is  no  place  on  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe 
where  some  of  them  have  not  penetrated.  Even  in  New  England  a  sly 
Gipsy  girl  will  enter  the  factory  as  employe,  will  by  her  allurements 
win  a  young  Jonathan  to  marry  her,  and  in  due  season,  the  'cute  gen- 
tleman will  find  himself  the  father  of  a  young  brood  of  intense  Gipsies. 
The  mother  will  have  opened  to  her  young  progeny  the  myetery  and 

tt) 


NOTICES  OF  THE  AMERICAN   PRESS. 

the  romance  of  its  lineage,  will  have  disclosed  its  birth-right  connection 
with  a  secret  brotherhood,  whose  profoimder  Freemasonry  is  based  on 
blood,  historically  extending  itself  into  the  most  dim  antiquity,  and 
geographically  spreading  over  most  of  the  earth.  The  fascinations  of 
this  mystic  tie  are  wonderful  Afraid  or  ashamed  to  reveal  the  secret 
to  the  outside  world,  the  young  Gipsy  is  inwardly  intensely  proud  of 
his  unique  nobility,  and  is  very  likely  to  despise  his  alien  father,  who  ia 
of  course  glad  to  keep  the  late  discovered  secret  from  the  world.  Hence 
dear  reader,  you  know  not  but  your  next  neighbour  is  a  Gipsy."  "  The 
volume  before  us  possesses  a  rare  interest,  both  from  the  unique  charac- 
ter of  the  subject,  and  from  the  absence  of  nearly  any  other  source  of 
full  information.  It  is  the  result  of  observation  from  real  life."  The 
language  "  is  spoken  with  varying  dialects  in  different  countries,  but 
with  standard  purity  in  Hungary.  It  is  the  precious  inheritance  and 
proud  peculiarity  of  the  Gipsy,  which  he  will  never  forget  and  seldom 
reveal.  The  varied  and  skillful  manoeuvres  of  Mr.  Sinison  to  purloin  or 
wheedle  out  a  small  vocabulary,  with  the  various  effects  of  the  opera- 
tion on  the  minds  and  actions  of  the  Gipsies,  furnish  many  an  amusing 
narrative  in  these  pages,"  "  Persecutions  of  the  most  cruel  character 
have  embittered  and  barbarized  them.  Even  now  .  .  .  they  do  not 

realize  the  kindly  feeling  of  enlightened  minds  toward  them,  and  view 
with  fierce  suspicion  every  approach  designed  to  draw  from  them  the  se- 
crets of  their  history,  habits,  laws  and  language."  "  The  age  of  racial 
caste  is  passing  away.  Modern  Christianity  will  refuse  to  tolerate  the 
spirit  of  hostility  and  oppression  based  on  feature,  colour,  or  lineage."  The 
"book  is  an  intended  first  step  for  the  improvement  of  the  race  that  forms 
its  subject,  and  every  magnanimous  spirit  must  wish  that  it  may  prove 
not  the  last.  We  heartily  commend  the  work  to  our  readers  as  not  only 
full  of  fascinating  details,  but  abounding  with  points  of  interest  to  the 
benevolent  Christian  heart."  "  The  general  spirit  of  the  work  is  em- 
inently enlightened,  liberal,  and  humane." 

Evangelical  Quarterly  Review.—"  'i  he  Gipsies,  their  race 
and  language  have  always  excited  a  more  than  ordinary  interest.  The 
work  before  us,  apparently  the  result  of  careful  research,  is  a  compre- 
hensive history  of  this  singular  people,  abounding  in  marvelous  inci- 
dents and  curious  information.  It  is  highly  instructive,  and  there  is 
appended  a  full  and  most  careful  index — so  important  in  every  work." 

National  Freemason. — "  We  feel  confident  that  our  readers 
Will  relish  the  following  concerning  the  Gipsies,  from  the  British  Ma- 
sonic Organ  :  That  an  article  on  Gipsyism  is  not  out  of  place  in  this  Mag- 
azine will  be  admitted  by  every  one  who  knows  anything  of  the  history, 
manners,  and  customs  of  these  strange  wanderers  among  the  nations  of 
the  earth.  The  Freemasons  have  a  language,  words,  and  signs  peculiar 
to  themselves  ;  so  have  the  Gipsies.  A  Freemason  has  in  every  country 
a  friend,  and  in  every  climate  a  home,  secured  to  him  by  the  mystic  in- 
fluence of  that  worldwide  association  to  which  he  belongs  ;  similar  are 
the  privileges  of  the  Gipsy.  But  here,  of  course,  the  analogy  ceases 
Freemasonry  is  an  Order  banded  together  for  purposes  of  the  highest 
benevolence.  Gipsyism,  we  fear,  has  been  a  source  of  constant  trouble 
and  inconvenience  to  European  nations.  The  interest,  therefore,  which 
as  Masons  we  may  evince  in  the  Gipsies  arises  principally,  we  may  say 
wholly,  from  the  fact  of  their  being  a  secret  society,  and  also  from  the 
fact  that  many  of  them  are  enrolled  in  our  lodges. There  are 


NOTICES  OF  THE  AMERICAN  PRESS. 

in  the  United  Kingdom  a  vast  multitude  of  mixed  Gipsies,  differing 
very  little  in  outward  appearance,  manners,  and  customs  from  ordinary 
Britons;  bat  in  heart  thorough  Gipsies,  as  carefully  and  jealously 
guarding  their  language  and  secrets,  as  we  do  the  secrets  of  the  Masonic 
Order."  "  Mr.  Simson  makes  masterly  establishment  of  the  fact  that 
John  Bunyan,  the  world-renowned  author  of  the  '  Pilgrim's  Progress/ 
was  descended  from  Gipsy  blood." 

New  York  Independent — "  Such  a  book  is  the  History  of  the 
Gipsies.  Every  one  who  has  a  fondness  for  the  acquisition  of  out-of-the- 
way  knowledge,  chiefly  for  the  pleasure  afforded  by  its  possession,  will 
like  this  book.  It  contains  a  mass  of  facts,  of  stories,  and  of  legends 
connected  with  the  Gipsies  ;  a  variety  of  theories  as  to  their  origin  .  .  . 
and  various  interesting  incidents  of  adventures  among  these  modern 
Ishmaelites.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  curious  information  to  be  ob- 
tained from  this  history,  nearly  all  of  which  will  be  new  to  Americans." 
"  It  is  singular  that  so  little  attention  has  been  heretofore  given  to  this 
particular  topic ;  but  it  is  probably  owing  to  the  fact  that  Gipsies  are  so 


occupy 

not  wanting  in  interest." 

New  York  Observer. — "  Among  the  peoples  of  the  world,  the 
Gipsies  are  the  most  mysterious  and  romantic.  '1  heir  origin,  modes  of 
life,  and  habits  have  been,  until  quite  recently,  rather  conjectural  than 
known.  Mr.  Walter  Simson,  after  years  of  investigation  and  study, 
produced  a  history  of  this  remarkable  people  which  is  unrivalled  for  the 
amount  of  information  which  it  conveys  in  a  manner  adapted  to  excite 
the  deepest  interest  ."  "  We  are  glad  that  Mr.  James  Simson  has  not 
felt  the  same  timidity,  but  has  given  the  book  to  the  public,  having  en- 
riched it  with  many  notes,  an  able  introduction,  and  a  disquisition  upon 
the  past,  present,  and  future  of  the  Gipsy  race."  "  Of  the  Gipsies  in 
Spain  we  have  already  learned  much  from  the  work  of  Borrow,  but  this 
is  a  more  thorough  and  elaborate  treatise  upon  Gipsy  life  in  general, 
though  largely  devoted  to  the  tribe  as  it  appeared  in  England  and  Scot- 
land." "  Such  are  some  views  and  opinions  respecting  a  curious  people, 
of  whose  history  and  customs  Mr.  Simson  has  given  a  deeply  interest- 
ing delineation." 

Neiv  York  Metfyodist.—"  The  Gipsies  present  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  anomalies  in  the  history  of  the  human  race.  Though  they 
have  lived  among  European  nations  for  centuries,  forming  in  some  dis- 
tricts a  prominent  element  in  the  population,  they  have  succeeded  in 
keeping  themselves  separate  in  social  relations,  customs,  language,  and 
in  a  measure,  in  government,  and  excluding  strangers  from  real  knowl- 
edge of  the  character  of  their  communities  and  organizations.  Scarcely 
more  is  known  of  them  by  the  world  in  general  than  was  know  when 
they  first  made  their  appearance  among  civilized  nations."  "  Another 
curious  thing  advanced  by  Mr.  Simson  is  that  of  the  perpetuity  of  the 

race He  thinks  that  it  never  dies  out,  and  that  Gipsies,  however 

much  they  may  intermarry  with  the  world's  people,  and  adopt  the  hab- 
its of  civilization,  remain  Gipsies,  preserve  the  language,  the  Gipsy  mode 
of  thought,  and  loyalty  to  the  race  and  its  traditions  to  remote  genera- 
dons.  His  work  turns,  in  tact,  upon  these  two  theories,  and  tho  Incl- 


NOTICES  OF  THE  AMERICAN  PRESS. 

dents,  facts,  and  citations  from  history  with  which  it  abounds,  are  all 
skillfully  used  in  support  of  them  "  "  There  are  some  facts  of  interest 
in  relation  to  the  Gipsies  in  Scotland  and  America,  which  are  brought 
out  quite  fully  in  Mr.  Simson's  book/'-which  "abounds  in  novel  and 
interesting  matter  .  .  .  and  will  well  repay  perusal."  •'  Tertinent  anec- 
dotes, illustrating  the  habits  and  craft  of  the  Gipsies,  may  be  picked  up 
at  random  in  any  part  of  the  book." 

New  York  Evening  Post. — "  The  editor  corrects  some  popular 
notions  in  regard  to  the  habits  of  the  Gipsies.  They  are  not  now,  in 
the  main,  the  wanderers  they  used  to  be.  Through  intermarriage  with 
other  people,  and  from  other  causes,  they  have  adopted  more  stationary 
modes  of  life,  and  have  assimilated  to  the  manners  of  the  countries  in 

which  they  live As  the  editor  of  this  volume  eays  :    '  They 

carry  the  language,  the  associations,  and  the  sympathies  of  their  race, 
and  their  peculiar  feelings  toward  the  community  with  them  ;  and,  as 
residents  of  towns,  have  greater  facilities,  from  others  of  their  race  re- 
siding near  them,  for  perpetuating  their  language,  than  when  strolling 
over  the  country.'  "  "  We  have  no  space  for  such  full  extracts  as  we 
should  like  to  give." 

New  York  Journal  of  Commerce.— "  We  have  seldom 
found  a  more  readable  book  than  Simson's  History  of  the  Gipsies.  A  large 
part  of  the  volume  is  necessarily  devoted  to  the  local  histories  of  fami- 
lies in  England  (Scotland),  but  these  go  to  form  part  of  one  of  the  most 
interesting  chapters  of  human  history."  "  We  commend  the  book  as 
very  readable,  and  giving  much  instruction  on  a  curious  subject." 

Neiv    York  Times.— "Mr has  done  good  service  to  the 

American  public  by  reproducing  here  this  very  interesting  and  valuable 
volume."  "  The  work  is  more  interesting  than  a  romance,  and  that  it  is 
full  of  facts  is  very  easily  seen  by  a  glance  at  the  index,  which  is  very 
minute,  and  adds  greatly  to  the  value  of  the  book." 

New  York  Albion. — "  An  extremely  curious  work  is  a  History 
of  the  Gipsies."  "  The  wildest  scenes  in '  Lavengro,'  as  for  instance  the 
fight  with  the  Flaming  Tinman,  are  comparatively  tame  beside  some 
of  the  incidents  narrated  here." 

Hours  at  Home  (now  Scribner's  Monthly). — "Tears 
ago  we  read,  with  an  interest  we  shall  never  forget,  Borrow's  book  on 
the  Gipsies  of  Spain.  We  have  now  a  history  of  this  mysterious  race 
as  it  exists  in  the  British  Islands,  which,  though  written  before  Bor- 
row's, has  just  been  published.  It  is the  result  of  much  time  and 

patient  labor,  and  is  a  valuable  contribution  toward  a  complete  history 
of  this  extraordinary  people.     The  Gipsy  race  and  the  Gipsy  language 
are  subjects  of  much  interest,  socially  and  ethnologically."     "He  esti- 
mates the  number  of  Gipsies  in  Great  Britain  at  250,000,  and  the  whole 
number  in  Europe  and  America  at  4,000,000."    "The  work  is  what  it 
profesres  to  be,  a  veritable  history — a  history  in  which  Gipsy  life  has 
been  stripped  of  everything  pertaining  to  fiction,  so  that  the  reader 
will  see  depicted  in  their  true  character  this  strange  people. . . . . .  And 

yet,  these  pages  of  sober  history  are  crowded  with  facts  and  incidents 
stranger  and  more  thrilling  than  the  wildest  imaginings  of  the  toman- 
tic  school." 

NEW  YORK:    JAMES   MILLER. 


14  DAY  USE 

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JAN  1  i  j 

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